Sometimes I feel compelled to write down my thoughts.
Thoughts that some moments run fleeting through my head.
Today was such a day.
As the day wound past like a rocket ship aimed at the moon,
waves of joy and sorrow climbed about my soul.
I wanted to write about my becoming a mother, some 21 years ago and how it altered my every breath since that moment of conception. How soon that child who leapt within my womb, will be wed and will be an official woman.
She will of course always be my baby, as so often she was reminded as she moved from my breast, to my knee, to toddling then running about. But soon she will have fully left childhood behind and will begin her life that God has opened before her, like a beautiful book yet to be completed.
Today I wondered what that meant for me, if she loses childhood and gains adulthood, what do I look forward to in this seeming loss. I should be capturing moments, encapsulating them and slowing down time, making sure I've gotten it all down correctly~ Like crossing t's and dotting i's postscript.
Then the day passes and I remember infertility that struck its heavy hand at years of my life. Seemingly it wanted to steal my joy, instead longing to leave me in a pile of ashes. But God gives Beauty for ashes and indeed He blew on those ashes and brought forth the beginnings of my tribe that He has assembled from the nations.
I rush about trying to balance all that wants to try to knock me off balance. Moments of texting, followed by *the plan* and ending with a sigh of relief when I realized that not all what I thought would happen around dinner time was actually intended for THIS day, but would amble in some time next week.
Oh joyful bliss.
Now to tackle dinner.
Dinner grabbed from this refrigerator, or that one, or the one in the farthest reaches. Who imagined I would be a mother needing 3 actual refrigerators. Gathering this and that from the pantry, the cellar or one of the many freezers. Quickly blending this with that and finding that it all comes together for a well rounded meal that the tribe will later pass from end to end of our old harvesting table.
The moment stopped and I "saw it" as I lay on a blanket under a small tree, looking on as 6 of my littles ran about with the oldest Ethiopian's soccer coach, "Prince Adam." His team had failed him, not coming to the practice, but my tribe who came merely to watch their limber sister run about, were more than happy to fill in on the girls' practice. Even the baby was invited to play, how happy she was that Mama forced her to wear 'kickin' shoes' to the field tonight. The noise of joy and the vibrations of love that it echoes.
I looked up and caught a reflection of who I am, the mirror rising from the green grass on which I am laying. Amidst the flannel blanket, tossed with hands full of weeds that are a play dinner of sorts from my youngest bronze skinned daughter. A knowing comes as what I am doing here on this space of earth.
I breathed in the cool spring air and lifted up thanks to Him who made all of this journey possible.
In 12 days I will be the M.O.B.
(or Mother of the Bride, as my girlfriend told me this morning, as we cut out this month's quilting square).
I don't feel quite ready in my heart. I do know that my Father who has called me to all of this,
will give me the grace to embrace the moment
and take joy in the next part of this wild ride.
Hearts are made for LOVE and this heart is so very full.
If you read all of this, bravo...
really I was writing it for me,
but glad you were able to share my heart.