I have . . .

He is a "professional" vomiter. He has been since he was a tiny four-pound peanut. It is amazing how a few ounces of milk can seem like a gallon when it is spewing across the room unexpectedly.

The doctor thinks it could be reflux. I think it is just a really big mess. Especially, when I am wiping it off my face.

It comes and goes, and today we are in a season where it has come again because he has a cold. It seems to trigger it and make it worse.

He isn't sleeping well, and so we spend many hours in the night rocking. Together.

I listen to him breathe. I don't like it when I can't hear it.

It makes me hold my own.

I hold my hand right above his little body and I wait . . . and his chest slowly fills the space between.

I exhale.

I don't mind the long nights and the messy clean up. I truly don't. I don't mind them, because I almost lost them.

I wish I would have had that perspective with the other four kids before him. I have whined and complained about all the hard things I've had to do. I have stomped my foot, clenched my fist and convinced my heart that it wasn't what I deserved.

There are many women I know that would love the messes I live in. The messes that come because there is love. The messes that come and give purpose. The messes that are ultimately gifts. The honest truth is that I don't deserve any of it . . . the love . . . the purpose . . . or the gifts.

I don't like the fact that I had to learn it this way. I want to understand life and all of God's ways simply because it is. I don't like my questions. I regret my doubt. I hate that I forget.

On my hands and knees scrubbing, I get it. The messes are His too. I can see it because I'm forced to live in it. It is on in my face. I have to do it. I want to do it. I don't want the alternative.

At midnight, in the silence, it all makes sense. Holding him, I can see what I almost lost. I am thankful.

I simply have . . . just because.

I didn't earn it. It's not because He loves me more.

I simply have . . . just because.

At noon, in the chaos, the truth gets a little fuzzy.  Living in the frenzy, I forget what I have. I am selfish.

Now I have to choose to live in it. My heart rebels.

I don't want to give. I just want to have.

And I choose again. I choose to believe what is true.

I have because He gave.

Not just the gifts.

The hope.

The hope that I can treasure it all, without questions, doubt free and never forgetting because He is. He is love. He gives purpose. He is the gift.

Someday.

Today.





Linking up w/ Chatting at the Sky . . . .