St. Joseph

We push on toward the two and a half year mark.  Hard to believe.  And still it's like it is just hours ago that I saw the lifelessness of Phoebe.  In her life, she was the epitome of energy.  Life buzzes around us, both by choice and necessity.  There are things to tend to, challenges and opportunities.  We strive to launch our children into the world, well prepared, solid, faithful, kind ...real, especially real and genuine.  There's a host of characteristics we want our kids to have.  Likely they won't have all of them, but together they might, each one bringing their own strength ...and weakness to culture of our home and family.
We are far enough away from that day when our lives shattered to be forgotten by most, or at least to be only in the shadows, never in the forefront.  That's how it all works, the nature of being human, we forget, diminish the impact if it doesn't immediately affect us.  I do it too! 
So we make our way, with our little entourage of those who remember with us, help carry the loss and tend the wound that will not heal.  In little moments, a slip here and there, a child reveals the pain of missing.  But the world tells them it is behind them, it shouldn't hurt them now ... We see though, we know. We push on.
Yesterday was the feast of St. Joseph, spouse of the Blessed Mother, foster father to Christ.  Several years ago, a dear friend at the time introduced me to him.  I've felt close to him since, and trust in his protection of our family.  I've come to believe St. Joseph gives nothing away, he is not indulgent or impulsive.  He petitions on our behalf for only what we need, and desire only if its what God desires for us too!  Many prayers have been laid before him from this heart, and they've all been answered ...most in ways I hadn't wanted.  For me its all about trusting, entrusting ...and then accepting.  A constant struggle of pulling back and releasing, desiring a certain answer and then ascending towards the response given, the plan laid out.  In my mind and heart, my path is laid out before me, trimmed in pansies and thyme, sweet stones marbled with color and moss.  I haven't found that path yet, mine winds its way through stormy wilderness.  Puddles, roots, divets and droppings demand my attention and caution.
I imagine the journey St. Joseph took from Bethlehem to Egypt, how treacherous it must have been and yet he pushed on ...and on, to safety.
I want St. Joseph to take me and my family to Egypt, help us get there, find safer land where we can rest, breath, not look over our shoulder quite so much ....ease the panic.  My eyes and heart search for the signs of that, and for now there are none I can see. We push on.  And only a very few know the risky steps we take to keep looking forward.  Life gets a bit easier here and there,  a bit heavier and bitter in others.  St. Joseph did all he could to protect his family, knowing the road ahead would not be easy ...knowing in some way that here on earth salvation would be played out with his little family.  He pushed on ....leading by example.  I'll follow as best I can, my intentions tightly clutched to my heart.