Wednesday, April 18, 2012

The other side of the door

Rather you dream your life to be a journey in the wilderness, a walk down a long hallway, as wide open as a field, or full of twists and turns winding your way through a labrynth; you have moments where fog or the brightness of the sun prohibits you from seeing what lies ahead. For years we spent moment upon moment cluesless to our future. The pain was great, the losses were numeral, and the opportunity to grow closer to Him abounded. With nearly every postive there is a negative and with every negative you are most assuredly promised a good to glean from it.
We have gleaned. So many things have blessed our lives. We have grown through so much. So much that only we understand. This doesn't make us different from others, as everyone has experiences and aches that only they can grasp in full depth. Ours are that...merely ours and we own them and all of their pain and growth. Just as we own all of our joys and the strength to keep moving forward.

Not one moment, not one decision, not one change would I make. I am the woman I am and my husband is the man of righteousness that he is for all of these challenges and joyous occasions. Having no regrets does not mean you forget nor does it mean you cannot remember those who have entered your life and gone away. There is a special little boy turning three one week from today. He will always hold a tender place in our hearts. We will always pray that our Father will guide his footsteps, be his light and salvation, and will keep him protected from all harm. He taught us how to love as parents, how to comprehend the weight of responsbility for another life, and once again, how to let go. While logic cannot provide explanation to why he left only to be wisked off to another place again, we have faith that his path will be just as it should be. We trust and do not mourn, we remember that beautiful smile and know that for whatever reason we were chosen to start him on the right path in life and to pray him from a place of loneliness to a place of love. I remember walking into the hospital and seeing him lying there with no parents, no special blankets or photos, no arms to hold him. We picked him up, poured our love out on him, and then released him into his life.

Now, many more stories later our door was opened. The fog rolled away. The sun relented and we can see where we were and now where we are. For years the future was no where in sight and now we are living it, blessed beyond imagination and stronger than ever. Our arms are full once more, our son lights up our day, and our love for one another and our Father navigates us through every turn and straightway we face. What felt like forever now is remembered as a measured unit of time where survival won out. We are on the other side of that door. It's beautiful: forward progress. Time is an element of beauty that can only be measured by itself. As I age, it is time that amazes me. It was designed by our Creator to be infinite in it's effects and monumental in it's moments. It is so loved and so hated all at once. It defines so much or at least we allow it to. I love the gift of time. The gift to grow in every second closer to my Lord and understanding more and more this gift to be as important to me as the breath I breathe. I look to the day when our family has all of its members, to growing old with the man I love, and to seeing Yeshua finally obtain his destiny, recognized by all as the King He is. Yet, I do not rush away this moment. I may temporarily forget how seaking tomorrow costs me today but may the grace of God call me back to looking out over the horizon and appreciating the present.