So we are just going to do this all over again? Day in, day out. Time. I rebel against holding it tight to my chest. But I wonder should it be like this? So furious, fast, and hurried. So limited, constrained and breathless. But how God fills it with love and healing, hope and laughter. Stories too big to tell fully.
A gust of wind pushes through and around us–my son stands in wonder, smiling in its rush and pull, soaking it in and if ever a human could catch the wind, he did.
And maybe I’m trying my hand at flying too.
Wind pushes all around me. Furious, fast, constrained, and breathless. I pause but don’t freeze, and let the gusts rush, rock softly, flatten, damage, delight. One day all will be made right. One day! Day in, day out. Breathe, Sierra.
And I do. I breathe. If time flies, I will too.
I buy the strawberry birthday plates. Another round of baby wipes. Plan another dinner. Sweep the floor again. Say good morning. Sing good night. Catch the wind. I kinda can. I kinda fly. And if I miss it, isn’t true? So, we’re just going to do this all over again?
I’d love to.