I don't want to miss this
some thoughts on the here and now
My baby sleeps on my chest, his own rises and falls with little snores. This moment is pure bliss. As his breathing deepens, my mind wanders to all that needs to be done: the dishes in the sink, the laundry piling up in our bedrooms, my breast pump parts needing to be washed for the third time today. Yet I’m trapped here beneath my sleeping son. I wish this was enough for me… why isn’t it enough?
I’m often caught in the middle of where I am and where I wish I was. And most of the time, I wish I was anywhere but here. I long for the days when I can get a full night’s sleep or when I can have a lazy Saturday morning again. My yearning for uninterrupted coffee drinking or shopping without lugging around a diaper bag often cause me to forget that today is the day that the Lord has made.
I know all too well that time is fleeting, yet I wish away where I’m at in pursuit of something else, something better.
As my baby sleeps on my chest, I’m reminded that these are the days that I longed for years ago. My life is what my daydreams were made of ten years ago after another failed relationship. It’s what I wished for when my loneliness was overwhelming. This life is what I wanted when I thought about what my future could hold. Why am I wishing it away?
We all need perspective to keep going—a reminder of how things were, the reality of where are now, and the good things that are right before us. In this season, I’m seeking perspective and peace most of all. I want to remember that right here is holy ground, poised for miracles and overwhelming goodness. I want to experience peace in the days that feel messy and on the days that I want to run from it all.
Right here is all we have. I can’t change this season, and it won’t serve me to plan for one I’m not yet in. When I’m tempted to run, I have to remind myself that these are the days that I dreamt of long ago. It’s perspective that keeps me grounded in the here and now.
It’s not about what could be, what needs to be done, or how things should be. It’s about how things are and remembering that everything that encompasses this season is a blessing from the Lord. He is faithful to provide and give us the desires of our hearts that are in alignment with His will. He is such a good, good father.
So as my baby’s chest rises and falls, I think to myself, I don’t want to miss this.
The way the bottle-filled sink means that my baby is being fed.
The way that a toy-scattered living room shows my (almost) 4 year old’s imagination.
The way that a diaper bag means that I’m showing this big wide world to my small baby.
The way that our dirty kitchen floor means that we are eating, creating, crafting, and sharing a living space together.
The way that this life is exactly what I wanted.
Don’t let me miss how beautiful this life is, Lord.
