So much of me wishes I could make Tommy understand what we're doing. That his daddy is being braver than he has ever been - starting over with a job and career at the age of 43 and risking so much so that he can provide for his family and create the life we have always dreamed of having together. That we are trusting God with our finances and our lives and our livelihoods and every minute detail because we believe He has led us here - to begin this new adventure where we are stripped of ourselves and the control we thought we had and are completely dependent on Him and quite literally walking by faith with every passing day.
But when you're three, all that really
matters is if daddy is home and is there to read you books and take you
to look at trucks and have tickle fights with you. There is no "big
picture" when you're three. I can't rescue his heart and I can't make him unfeel whatever he is feeling. Perhaps that's the hardest part - knowing that what we're doing comes at a cost for all of us - especially our boys.
I brought my little man to work with me this morning though. I couldn't bear to drop him off at his home daycare place AGAIN as the last two days have produced meltdowns of epic proportions. He needed me and I need to be at work, and thankfully my employers allow for the occasional bring-your-child-to-work-day.
He's had a rough week and I'm praying for as much patience and kindness to love him well.
Week one....almost done.