It has been painfully obvious how a mere few seconds can drastically change the course of your life. "Catching Hell" on ESPN showcased how Steve Bartman forever changed his life by attempting to grab a baseball soaring his way and how since then he has gone into a secret, apparently solitude life that it literally only takes a few seconds to change your life. Also how packing a shoebox full of the stuff we unavoidably take for granted, a bear to snuggle, gum to chew, a pencil to write with, can change the course of a life for a young child who has never received a gift before catapulting them towards a life of faith, forgiveness and forevermore. (Operation Christmas Child.) How just a few seconds can mutate just one small brain cell and turn it into a tumor robbing a child of only 7 months a whole lifetime of memories for him and his family after that tumor took him just 26 days later.
Operation Christmas Child is dear to my heart. I welled up with tears as I watched the video of the children unabashedly smiling as they opened up boxes of gifts from complete strangers. It was Riley's voice who asked when he could have a box full of gifts to replace his "old baby toys" that I was reminded that it is my job to make sure my children also grateful hearts and to furthermore give with joy.
But it is not until recently when I continue to be brought to blogs who detail the painful aches of way too many parents who have lost a child and who have remembered that child on October 15th the official day to remember all the babies and children who have been lost through miscarriage, misfortune and medical maladies that it has hit me so hard, like a ton of bricks being thrown at my heart that it has meant so much to be granted a grateful heart.
I was brought into the present when I remembered like a movie bringing a young Riley to the clinic for his flu shot at 6 months old and thinking that this was so horrible to be sitting in a line of chairs waiting for them to stab my baby boy in the hopes that he wouldn't get the flu that year. This came to me while I decided whether or not to make an extra appt for my girl to get her flu shot instead of waiting for her 9 month appt and in one breathe I tried to grasp that it was 3 years later already, I had 2 kids to get flu shots for and wondering how it could possibly be (yet again) 3 years later?!
I am not waiting for something bad to happen to us after being inundated with the heartache of others but instead feel moved to be ever present in every moment and to give myself over to God to lead me in my quest.
Tomorrow is promised to none and it's this moment that I want to imprint in my brain. I want to remember how a child in my Sunday School class was completely indifferent to the singing, the Bible stories, the art and all the glitter only to see him come alive with my brother as my helper on Sunday, coloring and talking happily with Kyle and finally saying to him "you are my friend." It just broke my heart with happiness and I haven't stopped thinking about him. I wasn't able to reach him with a basin of water, a hairdryer and a tub toy boat (Jesus calms the storm) but all Kyle had to do was show him a minute of attention and he was like a new boy. It only takes a second.
I wonder if Kyle felt as alive as I did watching this little boy light up and speak excitedly and maybe that comes with being a parent but it lit me on fire. On fire to live this life of mine with a big heart that worries not of tomorrow but stays wholly present to enjoy every gift of each new minute.
It is completely unreasonable in my opinion to expect to be on fire for every second, every minute, even everyday but I am reminded again that I am not alone and that I have the best reminders in life who remind to live and love uninhabited. I continue to enjoy every diaper change with raspberries blown on that chubby baby belly, bear hugs with renewed strength from my big boy and happiness in the home we have created although smaller than I would like but sufficient in it's warmth and filled with love.
It is as though nothing as matters these days. I am with my children. They are happy and well taken care of. We spend time together and the kind of time that includes playing (poorly on Riley's part) hide and go seek, peek-a-boo and hot or cold.
Is there more I would like to achieve in this life? Of course, I would love to be able to leave my job and muster up the guts to start pursuing photography, learning more about angles, editing and being comfortable charging money but now is not that time. I would love to go back to school for early childhood education or even to be a CNM but I can live with not ever doing that and Sunday School will suffice. Now is the time to drink up this season of life. To enjoy this short and ever evolving time in the lives of my little ones because babies certainly do not keep and it will be soon enough when my free time is one of wishing it wasn't so free.
Recently in church Riley has started paying attention and asking questions. Just before communion when the pastor recited the words we take for granted every week "on the same night he took the bread and he passed it out saying this is My Body which is given to you in remembrance of me..." Riley asked why He had to die and I found my self explaining things which I was not prepared too. Just this last week he noticed in prayers that we were praying for the Mrs. Passe's family because her Mom had just recently died and immediately he asked why her Mom had to die. He said it made him sad and then he rested his head upon my shoulder and hugged me. I found myself at a loss for words and I realized that I need to be teaching them with my actions that each day matters. Each day we make a choice to live life to the fullest and even though sad things happen everywhere, all around us, to us, we are reminded that this is not really our home and someday all the pain will go away and we will be made perfect and whole again.
So it is on that note that I chose to be happy for what I have, what I have accomplished and what I am sowing in the hearts of my littles and in my own.
