Well, as it seems to be becoming the norm around here, things have been a little crazy. We are shifting down & pulling out of things in order to create margin in our lives.
It's just that we have done without margin for so long that it's taking some adjustment.
There's this baseball world that 's new to me. And I'm enjoying it. There's the swimming thing which I also love. There's the painting thing...obvious...love. So there's a lot of good & a lot that we love...but we're toning it down.
As these littles start to grow into these people....I begin to see how I have to let go a little bit.
How God has these roads paved for them that are their roads & I get to walk along side for a while.
The baby & my little man had an eye appointment today & their eye thing...it's theirs.
It's not mine.
I mean, of course, we play a major role in managing the care around their eyes....but ultimately it's theirs.
And today my 3 year old learned that she has to wear a patch like her sister.
And she was pumped!
So excited to put a glittery sticker on. her. eye.
And 5 minutes later she lost her mind.
And she cried for the next hour & 55 minutes until I told her that she could take it off. (& I am aware that it's a not good photograph....but I was thankful to have a phone with a camera on it. & technology still blows my mind.)
Truthfully, it wasn't all crying. It was a lot of whining & it all made my blood pressure sky rocket & walking through the target is normally such a therapeutic experience for me.
Not so much on this particular day.
And I'll need to return a lot of things that I tossed in my basket in an effort to block out the pitch that her voice hits when she's so upset.
My distraction from the screeching was convincing myself that I really can wear orange & that yes, you can certainly go a size smaller.
Well. I cannot. Do either of those things.
But the point is I guess is that.....who knows. I lost it somewhere in there.
Maybe the point was just that 3 of the babies in my world right now can't see & I am their momma. And I can't walk this road for them.
But somehow I must trust the author of their stories to redeem this. A dear friend reminded me that He wastes nothing. And isn't that statement just filled with all kinds of hope.
Because I feel like I have wasted a lot.
He is an artist. A creator. A lover. A grand gift giver. A redeemer.
And may the patches on their little eyes remind me to pray that they would have eyes to see Him for who He truly is.