Monday, September 30, 2013
Swing, Sway…a moment saves the day
It was a perfect moment.
As we glided on the swing together. My ten month old and I. He the baby born in a foreign land, never setting foot in his ‘home’ country. Truly third culture at birth.
But it wasn’t those complicated thoughts that filled my head. my heart.
This fleeting time punctuated by how quickly they grow. Didn’t I just have him?
Now he’s pulling up on everything and daring as they come. He’s making his way up and down and all around this world and I really can’t keep up. He’s busy and jumping out of these arms; ready to explore. And I love the life he brings into my world.
There are many perfect moments in his life. Joy is close and there’s a contagious expectancy as he finds new things. learns new things. becomes a new thing.
But it wasn’t only his perfect moment as we swung and swung and swung and he clung and clung and clung.
To his one and only mama who fits him like a glove. And it’s really quite mutual.
He laid his busy, busy head on my chest and gripped the sides of the swing and we went back and forth and back and forth.
Time stilled. A thousand thoughts that jump and run right through this brain suddenly were quiet. gone.
All of that self-doubt, the wishing I were better or different. The plague of comparison. The constant creation of new standards to justify my existence. Oh how they have haunted me.
These 16 months of knowing there are a million others who would do this new life better. More self-sufficient. Stronger. More Capable.
Swing. Swing. Swing. A perfect fit. Him in me and I in him.
All of the knowing so many others would have had a greater impact. Absolute surety that this call should have landed on someone else.
Swaying and moving to the rhythm of life. true life. A life that’s made for me. A gift given that has the potential to right my whole world. And has many times.
The plains of expectations have slain me a million times. They're infinite in number and they bear down with crushing weight. And I have been crushed, flattened, laid thin and low and impossibly fragile.
But here, in this moment, I am whole. I rest in the rightness of who I am as a mama, the only mama, to this clinging, chubby life. I find the courage to live simply. To remember the gift of this moment.
My spirit expands from two dimensions. From what can be written down and checked off. A job description by which I constantly measure.
I take deep soul breaths and cling right back to this actively passive love and I feel its weight. I am holding him tight and my arms are tired but my heart is being renewed like the eagles.
I stand up from the swing and he’s clinging to the swing itself. That perfect sway. And I pry his hands away and hold him tighter. Reminding him it is me that keeps him secure and close to a love that will not let him go.
And heaven comes to earth. His will that I know His love through a Mama’s heart. The lessons that He stills the whole world and makes the active rest, so I might be changed. In a moment.