The Present

"When the heart weeps for what is lost, the spirit laughs for what it has found."
- Sufi Aphorism


I was reading another blog called My Charming Kids. There was a particular blog post I was reading a little absentmindedly while other things danced around in the back of my brain. The blog post was about a little boy wanting his mommy to sing him a song over and over again in the midst of bath time. There are two other kids needing attention, mommy already sang the song twice, and she just didn't feel like it again. She then explained how it hit her at that moment that she might just miss this chaos. She might miss singing the same song over and over again when her kids are off and out of the house someday.


This is a pretty common thing - people telling young families tired from lack of sleep and deaf from screaming kids that "you'll miss this." A phrase unlikely appreciated except for in retrospect.


After reading the post my first instinct was to relate it to before Christian's accident. I thought that's where my brain was supposed to go. But instead I thought of my time with Christian now and that I might actually miss this time.


The thing is my head is always in the future. What will the future bring for Christian? Where will he be in six months? A year? What therapies will we do this year? How will we raise money for therapies? This is all future thinking.


But so much can happen in an instant, as we've been taught. Christian is doing well and making progress and we've been lucky enough to avoid any major sicknesses since we came home. But in an instant things can change. I'm not naive. In an instant it can be not so good anymore. Or Christian could develop other issues in the future that could mean a whole range of things for him. That's not really a positive way to think but, oddly, it's a positive spin on the present.


The present means I get to hold him and stare into his eyes. The present means I get to watch his body change and come back to life. The present means I get to witness the power of God bring movement and peace back to a body that had nothing but stress and trauma. I get to see him see and hear the world around him a little more each day. 


In deed, our lives are difficult in comparison to other "normal" families. But, honestly, our lives could be a whole lot more difficult in an instant. And it may just happen that I look back thinking - I miss that.


Or Christian could become very mobile, moving around, getting into things, demanding his favorite juice, fighting with his sister. This could be our future reality, too. With God all things are possible. And maybe for a second, relishing in God's possibilities, listening to God's little miracles fight and bicker, I may also miss these days just a little.


The present days signify the miracles already given to us. Although these present days are full of ups and downs, progresses and setbacks, some days heartwrenching, some days full of rejoicing, in an instant we could be in a situation where we would give anything to have these days back.


All of that being said, I was holding Christian in my arms and lately I've noticed how big he's getting. As he's staring into my eyes, intentionally, rather than staring through me like maybe 4 months ago, I watch Christian move and reach with his hands in slow motion. I watch him do things for the first time. Without processing or analyzing, the first thought that came to my head was - I'm gonna miss this.