Monday, August 22, 2011

A Mist

My "baby" girl turned two today. Her birthdays have always been a mix of emtotions for me: excitement at seeing her grow up, gratefulness for her life and health, and saddness as I think about the way things are and how they might have been different. I am sure all mothers are melancholy to a degree as they think about those baby days that went by so fast. We think, if I have another child some day I'll really enjoy the little days and not worry so much, but even then we blink and time is gone.
My hopes of having another baby some day seem to be passing me by in the reality of life with chronic pain.  I want so badly to enjoy the child I have, but I worry that it's all going so fast and I am unable to do the things I want with her. Tonight she cried wanting me to rock and read her a bedtime story (my husband always does this if he is not at work). I am so flared up from my procedure that sitting is really difficult right now, even with a cushion. It's hard to explain the inability to sit to a doctor let alone a two year old. But all I wanted to do tonight is sit and read my baby a bedtime story on her birthday. Don't I DESERVE that? Doesn't she?

No. We don't.

"Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit"-- yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that." James 4:13-15

Our life is a mist. We aren't here for long in the scope of eternity. We may have lifelong chronic pain or we may get through this life with very little suffering. But it's still just a mist. We can't re-live our child's baby days or change the outcome of a decision and we can't lengthen the lifespan God has ordained for us (Psalm 139:16). But regardless our lot, we can live each day we've been given with the purpose of making great God's name. After all that's why we are here, even as a mist.

My precious daughter calmed down and let my husband read her a bedtime story while I "sat" on my knees beside the rocking chair on the floor. I leaned in to listen to to "The Three Billy Goats Gruff" (stories about trolls are not scary yet :)) and my "baby" put her arm around me and pat me as if to say, "it's ok mommy, I love you." It's a moment I hope not to forget.

1 comment:

  1. I think your "baby" has an intuition of her mommy's struggle, and she loves you no matter what you can or cannot do.