It’s said that sweet tea is a balm for heartache. But what about when the weight of your heart’s burdens have crushed your heart into such a bloody pulp that you can’t remember how to breathe, much less remember to sip sweet tea? What about when your heart is shredded and shattered until there is no conceivable means to put the pieces back together? And what if you’re so broken and so lonely that you can’t even try?

My sisters were here today. Laughter, chatter, and sunshine followed us. We celebrated one’s birth with pineapples, cousins played, and new baby bunnies were discovered. Life. Full.

That sister whose birth we just celebrated? She just walked onboard the airplane that will carry her back to her life. And the other sister? Her little, blue car just slowly backed out of the drive to return she and my sweet, tiny nephew back to their lives.

Our home is quiet. Empty. Lonely. Three doggies are napping. Lily is playing. There are vintage toys scattered across floor, party food to be put away, and dirty dishes to be washed. Paints are lined up like toy soldiers in shades of yellow and green, paintbrushes in wide-mouth mason jar. Six blank, stark white canvases. Empty. Canvases waiting for whimsical pineapples to be brushed into life. But, we had such a full, lovely day; there was no time left for painting.

Now, they’re gone. And there’s this ache in my core, my center, my heart that’s been there a while. Their visit brought reprieve. The walls and halls echo loneliness.

Three days ago, Lily and I set out into the Midwest sunset. With windows down, we drove among the fields for the twenty-or-so-minute drive to Mom’s and Dad’s to care for chickens and gardens. Driving against that colossal golden sky, I felt so alone. Heart aching.

And where do you turn when there’s no one to turn to? When there’s no one to sit down and share with over a glass of sweet tea? Tears flowing, all I could wonder is, “What’s wrong with me?” “Why doesn’t anyone want to know me, really know me?” I’ve never felt as uninvited, left out, or alone as I do at this stage of life. I often wish to move somewhere new and begin again. Been there?

Music was low as I drove and mused. Breaking into my pain-filled thoughts drifted the opening line, “I keep fighting voices in my head that say I’m not enough; Every single lie that tells me I will never measure up…” from Lauren Daigle’s song “You Say.”

There was no instantaneous, magical emotional healing. But, that moment, I knew I was held. I was assured that my Creator God knows me and wants to know me. Intimately. And I can believe.

Fed and watered, all seventeen chickens were thankful-happy. Parched tomatoes soaked up cool, life-giving water as much as my dry, empty soul soaked up my God’s love for me. And, I’m still thirsty. Desperately thirsty. This time, sweet tea isn’t and wasn’t the healing balm.

Picking sweet basil and dill, Lily and I found a caterpillar. Yellow, verdant, white, with tiny black dots. Gorgeous. We brought little caterpillar home and created a dill-packed habitat. Getting into the car for home-drive, God made certain I not only knew, but felt His immense, intense love–the same song was playing again. “You say I am loved when I can’t feel a thing…and when I don’t belong, oh, You say I am Yours.”

So, my sisters are back to their lives, and there’s this mason jar of dill here. Caterpillar is in his chrysalis. Alone. Waiting. Resting. Maybe lonely. But, he’s held. And when the lonely period is over, he’s going to emerge a glorious butterfly and soar.