Why do I look?

Why do I look so hard every day for itty bitty miracles?

Because I have to.

It’s the only way I can get through the day.  Because when I stop and think about and imagine all the things that could go wrong, or will go wrong, or the things I haven’t even thought of that could go wrong, or the battles I will have to fight on Vallyn’s behalf, or the developmental delays she may face, or what her teenage years and adulthood will be like, or what will happen to her once I am gone – I cannot stand it.  It literally makes me gasp and cry and brings me to my knees.

I have not historically been someone who looks for the positive.  People who have known me my whole life (or not even that long!) would probably say I have been a ‘glass half empty’ kind of gal.  And thinking that way has gotten the better of me for many many years.  And it is a miserable way to be.

But now it’s not just me I could make miserable.  It’s my husband.  And it’s my precious angel, who doesn’t understand worry or fear or developmental charts or Roth IRAs.  She lives in the moment.  She is here right now.  Present.  That’s just how she rolls. 

And how wonderful it would be to just be like that!  How freeing.  How peaceful.  How important.

Because all those times in the past that I worried and fretted and imagined and dreaded – well – probably less than 10% of those bad things ever happened.  But what did happen is I missed out on a lot of moments and right nows.  And I’ll never get them back.  And right now, with Vallyn, there is moment after moment after moment happening that I want to remember and absorb and feel and be there for.

So do I still worry?  Oh, youbetcha!  40 years of a habit is very hard to break.  And there’s no escaping it - there will be some hard times ahead for us.

But do I intentionally look around me throughout the day and take stock and be thankful and soak it all in and try to let those worries go and give them over to God?  I most certainly do.

Because I know that someday, sooner than I imagine, Vallyn will be on the go.  She will not want to snuggle.  She will not need me to feed her.  She will want to go play with someone other than me.  And that is wonderful.  That is progress.  That is growth.  But I will miss her like crazy.  I can already feel it. 

So why do I look?

So I don’t miss a thing.  So I am not overwhelmed by my fears.  So that I see Vallyn’s second tooth that broke through this morning.  And so that instead of only seeing the future fights and mishaps and delays and sadness and changes, I can close my eyes and picture Vallyn, with a big toothy grin she smiles just for me.

         

Matthew 6:34   Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.