I picture myself with my hands in the air, trying to capture the days as they fly swiftly by. As I pull my hands down and open them, I see that they are empty. How can this be? How is it that the days which once stretched before me into years have become distant memories? And the memories have faded until only a few remain stuck in some corner of my mind to keep and replay and treasure and cling to . . . because it's all I have left of that time. And yet, I can barely recall it.
I hardly remember him like this:
My first baby is going to school, and my cheeks are wet. He's ten, not five. He's going to fifth grade, not kindergarten. . . and yet the hurt and the heartache, I imagine, are no different. I'm not ready to let go.
And so I read the journal I've written for him over the years, and I come to July 8, 2003. He's three and a half years old. I have written, "A day after talking about Jesus walking on the water, you said, 'I can't walk on water, Mommy. Jesus will just have to carry me.'" And I cry for the little boy heart that has always been for Jesus, that has always led me to Him because I can't keep him little forever.
But we think it's time. And still I cling, thinking that it's in my control . . . thinking that by holding him here, I'm keeping things the same and forbidding tomorrow to come. But I'm not. I'm only pretending. And he has his own paths to walk, his own sky to soar . . . his own water to walk with Jesus.
So, I breathe deep. I pray. And I count the blessings of yesterday and the promise of Eternity, where I never have to let go forever.
And as I count, Jesus will just have to carry me.
"When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you."
~Isaiah 43:2
Counting gifts #124 to 149:
I'm not too heavy for Jesus
He carries my babies too
morning talks with The Thinker
memories preserved in journals
encouragement from friends and family
a sunset over the lake
waiting
sand castles
the white of the gull's wing
ligthhouses
crashing waves
a time to relax
good books
bike rides
cloud watching in the backyard with all three kids
Uno with my boys
games of Blokus with my boys, and I finally win!
bird song
an impromptu visit with my brother and sister
a new aunt reading books to Baby Girl
squirt gun fights with my nephews
there's still some summer left
awareness that these really are the best days
