Baby Girl and I went to see Nashville Ballet’s production of the Nutcracker yesterday. It, as always, was magical. Two years ago, they revamped the ballet to create a more “Nashvillian” scene. After years and years of attending Ballet West’s Nutcracker, it was with great trepidation that I approached another production. Surely it would not stand against the great Christensen tradition of the Nutcracker. But Mr. Vasterling is an astounding choreographer. Any awkward gaps in story line, or uninspired set design is quickly glossed over by the gorgeous dancing. It is a tremendous experience. Now if we could only combine the sets from the PNB production, and Vasterling’s choreography. . .
Husband and I alternate years attending the Nutcracker with Baby Girl, because, let’s face it, he loves it too. (And not just because of the Sugar Plum Courtier’s tights that are on the more transparent side of opaque.) But the Gods had aligned the stars correctly in sending me yesterday. In Husband’s current state, he might not have made it back home to us.
I have learned a lesson this past week. Husband has a tremendous power to bring the spirit into our home, and into our lives. A power that I cannot come close to replicating. We were at a breaking point a month ago. By some miracle, and I do mean Miracle, we both turned full-force to God. We were cradled gently in His hands and our lives and marriage were filled with light, and hope, and goodness, the likes of which I was all to unfamiliar with.
I attributed my good feelings and nature to both of our earnest endeavours in pursuing light, but I assumed that the bulk of my peace was from my efforts. I was very wrong. The power switch was flipped to OFF this week, and I am still peeling myself off the floor, and picking gravel from my wounds.
It wasn’t me that changed course, but yet the change within me is so distinct, so poignant, it feels as though it is through my own actions that I am experiencing this darkness and despair. My efforts have been redoubled, my pleas with God more intense. But I am no match for the powers at play here. I plea to my Father that this condition will be temporary, that the course we were on was so powerful that it will pull us back. I will not succumb to the fear that is grasping at me.
It was a magical four weeks.