Last week was a doozey.  The kind that knocks the wind out of ya and leaves you on your butt wondering what just happened.  When we scraped our bellies across the finish line to Friday we were just glad we had made it.

But God is so good. He picked us up and dusted us off.  There was some confidence building.  There was some peace.  There was some straight-up love brought our way by friends who brought a meal (Potato soup, how I have missed thee!  Homemade bread!  Chex mix!) out of the blue and then a phone call from Connie.

“Hi, sweetie.” she said. “Do you guys like hockey and have you ever been to a Rush game?”

Me? I LOVE hockey.  Makes me giddy and teary eyed more than any other sport save an Olympic performance. And while Jac and Max onceuponatime went to a Rush game, the rest of us have never had the pleasure.

Turns out, Connie’s office sometimes gets free tickets.  Sometimes they go unclaimed.  THIS time she thought of us and THIS time there were 6 tickets.

I heard the Lord say “Buck up, kiddo!  I got your back!”

And so, after a Saturday of completing things (and being loved on by the neighbor who brought 30 of the best and fanciest cookies in town to our doorstep), we inhaled our supper and busted a move to the civic center.  Lot full  my eye!  We got a spot nice and close. Our section was straight ahead of the door we walked in and we had to walk down, yes down, to our seats.

These tickets? The best in the house.  On the end of the long side of the ice, third row from the glass.  The place was in pandemonium when we walked in and Gemma decided in that moment that she had entered heaven.  I almost agreed.  The cow bells!  The jumbotron! The music! We screamed while they introduced the team (and by we I mean “me” until Ellie got the hang of it) and got teary eyed through the flag ceremony and national anthem.  Then a puck was in play and within minutes, we had a player pressed to the glass in font of us.

It. Was. AWESOME.

We yelled and stomped and cheered and gasped.  We shed our layers (cheering is sweaty work . . . ) and shared a shaved ice.  We hooted at a marriage proposal.  We tried to catch t-shirts and gift-card parachutes.  We attempted to keep an eye on the puck and spread sticky from here to kingdom come courtesy of cotton candy.

We left right before the third period began because we were sticky and it was loud and we were hedging our bets.  Always better to cash in while you’re ahead, I say.  We began the bundling up process and the the ladies in front of us flirted with the kids and oohed and aahed.  “They are sooo good.  And just darling!” they gushed.  That? That was a fist bump directly from God for the parenting marathon that was last week.

Going to bed that night, exhausted and happy, we were recharged and ready for whatever this week has in store.  And the icing on the cake?  The Rush won, 5-2. “Hey! Go Rush!’

*Connie, can’t thank you enough for the fun! Love ya tons!*