I’ve been absent from this space for far too long, and today is the day that it stops.
The truth is, my little family and I have had a difficult few weeks. I don’t plan to reveal all of what has transpired in our corner of the world, but as my mom always says, things come in sets of three, and these past few weeks, we’ve had our three – all medical woes, but all of us, thankfully, are doing well and are on the mend. But it’s been a rough time here.
Why is it that when the world slows its spinning, when you literally can feel God’s hand on your shoulder as you breathe in and out, in and out, in and out, do we as mamas withdraw from the world, hunker down, build imaginary forts over our parents and our children and our spouses and our loved ones, forts of feather-filled pillows and torn patchwork quilts stretched as far as can be, in hopes that this fort, this fortress, will protect us from what’s just out of our grasp, what’s out there lurking?
What’s to be gained from the act of hunkering down?
Clarity. Clarity, in the form of a little boy’s face.
And hope. Hunkering down, holding tightly to what matters most, gripping with all of our might onto the littles that forever changed us, to the loved ones whose fingerprints are cemented on our hearts – it always brings hope.
Hope is also found – it’s a guarantee – in the giggles of a baby.
And I know for certain that hope springs forth especially from the giggles of a baby who knows that something’s not right, but who trusts, always, in his parents to make it all better. A baby boy who knows what we all know, or knew at one point, when the spring and summer sun kissed the curve of our cheek for the first time, when the icy chill of the winter captured our breath, when the warm wisps of autumn wind pushed the fallen leaves around in tiny tornados on the tar of the cul de sac. He knows to trust, never to waver, never to worry, to always have faith in his parents.
What a reminder that we, as children – all of us – and as parents – some of us – should always remain steadfast in our trust in our heavenly Parent, our Father, our God.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11
Here’s to hunkering down, to building our forts, and to seeking a kind of trust that is eternal in measure.