a rare quiet.

I know I’ve been the lamest blogger ever this month. And I missed a Ten on Tuesday post yesterday (and I can’t remember the last time that happened). Truth be told, it has nothing to do with having nothing to say. I have a million things to say and a million pictures to share. It’s just that I don’t know how to say what I want to say.

See, 2011 has been a pretty great year for our family. We’ve seen goals accomplished and new dreams hatched. Our children have grown in size and spirit. We have fulfilling jobs and health and food on our table. 2011 has been great to us.

And because of that, my heart is divided. On one hand I count my blessings and selfishly dare to ask God for more. But on the other hand, I ache for the ones I love. The ones who aren’t “family” as our world understands it, but really might as well be.

Last year I wrote this blog post about our neighbors in which I penned (keyed?) what might be the most laughable blog line to date: “And while I don’t want to deny any blessings that 2011 has to offer, I think it’s safe to say all positions have been filled…”

I call it laughable because there were 10 of us at that holiday dinner last year. This year, 15. All positions had clearly not been filled. I won’t even venture to guess where we’ll be for holiday dinner 2012.

So while our family has celebrated the ups that 2011 has brought us (and our friends have celebrated along with us), it’s hard to reconcile those blessings with the pain and struggle some in our group have been through. I’ll never forget Heather’s voice on the line last December 30th when she said, “Andy’s been hit by a car.” Or the quiver in Dawn’s voice in the late summer heat when she whispered, “Joel has cancer.” 2011 has not brought blessings to all of us. And I don’t know how to reconcile that with the blessings 2011 has brought to some of us. These people have captured such a part of my heart and soul. And while half of my heart celebrates, the other half of my heart weeps.

Which is why I don’t know what to say. I feel Quiet. Detached. Sad. Helpless. Blessed. Confused.

So I think I’ll let this blog sit for a few. I’ll be back in 2012. When new blessings are sure to unfold. I hope and pray, for all of us.

LacyDecember 21, 2011 - 10:04 pm

Look out 2012 – here we come! Looking forward to a bright New Year!

LaceyDecember 21, 2011 - 10:09 pm

I understand … I often struggle with feeling so thankful for our blessings, yet so sad for those who have struggled. My comfort is always that God is with us no matter what, and for that we are blessed and thankful. 🙂 Merry Christmas, Erin!

KarlyDecember 21, 2011 - 10:23 pm

There is such grace and faith in knowing that we share our blessings and in turn our friends will share theirs when the time comes. Have a happy, blessed, and quiet Christmas with your family Erin!

DebsDecember 22, 2011 - 4:09 am

Blessings on you and your loved ones.

rachelzanaDecember 22, 2011 - 11:25 am

Hmmm. I feel very similar about my circumstances this year. You always hear about people getting divorces, battling cancer and other diseases, facing the results of tragic accidents, and even about God doing miraculous things in people’s lives, but I’m always unprepared when these things actually happen to people that I’m close to. And your posting about this is reason #7832 why I read your blog every single day, because it makes me think! And realize other have similar things in common with me. I’m praying that you have a great Christmas!

JenniferDecember 23, 2011 - 9:47 am

It’s hard not to feel guilty for our own blessings when those we love struggle. And you feel bad complaining about minor inconveniences when certain loved ones wish that were their biggest worry. The fact that you do struggle to feel joy when those you love have hardships shows that you have compassion and empathy. And that is why you have so many people who love you. 🙂

Stephanie @ La Dolce VitaDecember 23, 2011 - 12:39 pm

It is hard to understand sometimes. I guess that’s why they call it faith. Merry Christmas to you and yours!

[…] Our street has been living for this moment – a healthy Joel, dancing with his hot wife. What a difference a year makes. Praise […]

Your email is never published or shared.

There was an error submitting your comment. Please try again.