Weight

This week has had a certain weight to it. On Sunday, I found myself tearing up during hymns and prayers at church, moved by the hope that persists, in a moment when I feel fearful for what lies ahead for my community, our country.

Indeed life has felt "heavy" for a long while. I turned 40 on Tuesday. Matt cleverly schemed to have friends send me cards to his work address--a lot of cards. So he surprised me with them Tuesday night, and I read each one, crying and laughing and crying some more. I can tell when a moment feels heavy: I remain constantly on the verge of tears.

Among the correspondence I received was a sweet email from one of my dearest friends. She wrote: "40 was big for me. Felt like a very heavy page turning. I was happy to close a difficult decade. I imagine you have a few similar feelings." That captured so perfectly what I've felt, what I'm feeling. Life has been heavy with heartache AND joy this past decade. I became a mother, I began and suspended my work as a lawyer, we lost Matt's dad, the kids all started school, we moved into a home we love, I started work again, and I've been outliving cancer for nearly four years now. Like another friend wrote to me: "I realized 40 meant all those times--the happy, the sad, the difficult, the amazing, the trying, the adventurous and the heart-filled."

Yes, life is all those things. As I start this new decade, I hope to remain grounded in gratitude. In this season, I hope to take in the dark, strange beauty of a winter sky. I will let my tears fall. I will land in the comfort of knowing how loved I am and how much more love I have to share.