Four Girls Later

I haven’t written in a while, as I was truly drinking in time with my family. Special memories. Family time. Moments of pure perfection. 

I heard something once about perfection and it’s achievability. Many people say it’s unattainable, but I don’t believe that. I think we have perfect moments. Snapshots in time that are perfect. When the wind blows through our hair, the sun kisses our face, we smell the aroma of good food, and our ears hear the sound of our children laughing. Or even moments with those we actively choose to do life with. Like laughing with a friend over sangria and goat cheese burgers while sharing stories. 

Moments like that are perfection. That is what I took time to experience over the last month, and for that I’m grateful. 

This is important to me because I think we are dangerously close to losing gratitude and living in a world where people spend more time capturing an experience to share online than living that experience. Let me explain. While at the beach I watched people film themselves running in the water. They filmed for maybe 20 seconds, looked at the film, fixed whatever they were unhappy with and filmed running again. I’m not criticizing the art that is film or the desire to share our lived experience, but I think when we only live in glimpses for our screen we’ve missed it. Kind of like watching fireworks though the screen of your phone while filming. 

When we run through the water to achieve aesthetic and then quickly sit down, we’ve missed the chance to actually feel the water splashing around us, the sand in our toes, and feel the majesty of the boundaries of a huge body of water.  Life is wild and unpredictable. I, for one, want to feel it all. 

Feelings are not in short supply over here either, y’all. Honestly, the main feeling is fear. I am afraid. I’m currently waiting for an appointment for answers at the children’s hospital an hour from home. And as I watch my daughter sleep I am overwhelmed with emotion. Her long perfect eyelashes, her chest gently moving up and down as she breathes, the sweet smell of her skin, the perfect shade of brown that is her hair. She is absolute magic. It’s funny in loving her, she has somehow taught me to love me. 

She has many of the attributes that I have felt insecure over at one time or another – my ears, eyes that don’t exactly match in color, but most specifically my raspy voice. I’ve gotten comments about it my whole life, and boy does she have it. Guess what? It’s the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Her eye color is absolutely enchanting,  especially the part where one is mostly green and the other more honey in color. Those ears… you guessed it, cutest things ever. 

My 5 year old is sick. I am unaware as to exactly how sick at this time, but I know something is amiss and all things point to bone marrow. In the waiting, google is my enemy, so aside from blood counts and blood smear results, I don’t have much of anything concrete. 

 I find myself writing away at 4am because writing has always been something that helps me sort my thoughts, and I could really use some sorting. Do you ever feel like you’re living in someone else’s reality? You hear how quickly your whole life can change, one doctors appointment, one car trip to the store, one tragic accident… but until you’re faced with the possibility that it’s you or yours do you really live like it can all change tomorrow? 

All I know is I’m trying to really live. To appreciate the gifts I’ve been given. To love my children well. And, I know I’m not alone. We have been rallied around in prayer and loved so well. 

He will reign. 

Shine your light. 

Xoxo, 

Sara