Thursday, 12 January 2012

the end of the story

We rushed outside today to greet Tim on his bike, excited that he'd been given an early mark. Until we saw his face. He'd been fired.
That good karma, that 'isn't God amazing' that started with helping a guy on the side of the road and landed Tim a job putting bikes together, ended with a day and a half of unexpected, ranting abuse.
So tonight we ordered pizza, sat out on the back deck in the cool and the quiet and just took it all in. And after pizza, I picked up some stray chalk and started to draw. Long curvy lines and sharp, erratic ones. Trying not to think about design but just to process my feelings. Tully came and joined in, blissfully unaware of the turmoil. And Evie came to destroy, as she does. My little monkey (or Tasmanian Devil, depends on the day, as to how I choose to see it). She systematically, and with great flair, rubbed her hands through my lines. I just watched, slightly amused and a little numb. And just as purposefully, she stood up, and took herself back inside. Her work here was done.
When I finally went to get up as well to come in for story time, I noticed this little hand print on my leg. And I did feel like it was a little message for me. Something about 'out of the destruction...'
It's still just a tiny seed of hope in my heart. I'm not ready to read anymore into it yet. Maybe just that this mess isn't the end of the story.


  1. oh no what a shame, after you were just starting to feel a little more positive. I really hope there is something so much better for you just around the corner

  2. Praying for you and your family Jodi. Unemployment is really rough. And the ups and downs of hope is even harder. I think that whether we understand the reasons for what we've been through, or whether there is a reason at all, is less important than knowing that God is with us through it all. That he has his hand on us. Even when it seems as small, faded, and indistinct as Evie's little print on you.
    Looking forward to hearing of good things that come your way as your story continues.

  3. Thank you for sharing the the sad and the bad, Jodi - for on our blogs we tend to put on our brave, happy public faces more often than not. I hope life settles into a contented rhythm again soon :)

  4. Oh Jodi that sucks. I feel your chalky rage! I won't bombard the comment with positivity but know that I'm sending those vibes your way :)

  5. OH NO!!!

    praying for a better thing in store..


I so love your comments! I read all of them and reply when I can. If you don't hear back, I'm lost under a mound of scraps or outside jumping on the trampoline with the kids. Jodi. xx