As we went through our evening routine getting both kids to bed tonight, I felt particularly out of sorts. My tutoring lesson hadn't gone as well as I had hoped, I had dropped the ball on helping a friend, and anxiety was steadily rising. I tried to pinpoint the cause...the deeper root, but could not.
Miles fell asleep easily in my arms. Addie was happy and giggly and so adorable with her expanding vocabulary and pretend play and subtle lisp. And yet I couldn't let go of the nagging weight on my heart. My normal rhythm of getting the house clean and various items ready for tomorrow was mush. Serge made me lie down while he finished Addie's bath. I relaxed a bit as I listened to Addie talking about her rubber ducky pooping and the bubbles in her bath getting her 'dirty'.
She was uncharacteristically compliant to getting dressed and getting into bed. She chose to read a new book (I have 'The Gingerbread Man' practically memorized), we sang 'I have a family here on earth' and she looked at me like she was looking deep into my momma soul. 'Do you really love me?' she seemed to be asking. 'I forgive you for all the mistakes you've already made with me' I read in her eyes. 'I see your flaws and your fears and I still love you' I felt her thinking. 'I know you won't always be what I need and want you to be for me, but I hope that I still turn to you'...I feel this pondering from her most often, and I felt it tonight. I realize these thoughts and sentiments are largely a reflection of my own thoughts and experiences and feelings about mother-daughter relationships, but perhaps some of it is being in tune with my own daughter.
Then Serge offered the prayer. Over the past few weeks she has gone from actively avoiding prayer to becoming very interested. She has begun to pray (with guidance from Serge). She even folds her arms for entire prayers. As Serge began to pray she put her bottle down (if you knew how much she loves that bottle...) and folded her arms. About 20 seconds into Serge's prayer she took over. 'Thank you Cousin Alex. Thank you Auntie Kemly. Thank you Addie. Baby Miles sleeping. Baby toys. Thank you Momma and Dadda. Heavy castle (built with magnatiles). FALL down.' It was a moment that you want to soak up and put in a memory box and never forget. The innocence and sincerity and small little voice and earnest pauses, trying to string words together and pronounce all the syllables.
I wish I could say that all was well and the anxiety was gone. Instead, I recognized that this evening was the perfect microcosm of my life right now. The weight of raising two precious little spirits contrasted with the magic of the moments that make up the (eternal) days of seeing these pure and innocent humans develop. Not wanting it to go by too quickly, wanting to remember it all, and at the same time wanting to have freedom and sleep and time and even a moment to use the bathroom without wondering if someone will get hurt. Feeling as though I am the the last person I think about, and at the same time seeing more clearly than ever my selfishness. Learning the lesson of 'letting go' over and over and over again, yet in my anxious moments gently coaching myself through that process as though I had never encountered the lesson. Constantly feeling that I am falling short as a spouse, yet knowing that Serge's patience extends even to my inadequacies.
What is the bridge between all of these contrasts? How can the heaviest of weights coexist in my life with the greatest of blessings? I know more than ever that it is Christ. It's His life and His sacrifice and His Atonement and His extended hand and open door. It's His mercy and His power that bring the layers of pain and beauty together to create what only the divine can create, eventually- understanding, perfection; wholeness.
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