You press your tiny hands against the cold glass window. Your big blue eyes stare out at the raindrops falling on the leaves. It's so beautiful, so quiet, so peaceful out there. You can't look away. But, my gaze is set on you. Your eyes are bright with wonder. Ever so slowly, a smile appears on your face as you take it all in. Mama is holding you close and you are beholding the simple beauty of the Creator. So am I, but I'm beholding the beauty of a little boy made in the image of a big God. I'm beholding the answered prayer of a mama's heart that so desperately wanted you. I'm beholding your spirit of curiosity, and the complete contentment of your little life in this moment. It's painting a picture of how the posture of my heart ought to be as well, in awe of the One who is present with us in this moment, drinking in the simple blessings that surround me.
The rain lets up and the sun breaks through. We decide to take a stroll through the yard. Your excitement is revealed through all your high-pitched babbling. Holding you close, I walk to up to a big tree in the yard: "Look, baby, isn't this a pretty tree?" You examine it and then, with one tiny finger poking out from under your slouchy sleeve, you touch the tree trunk.
We walk over to the small wooden gate to the yard, and you let out a happy noise. Wrapping your hands around the wooden gate, you straighten your arms and repeatedly tap your hand against it which is your way of expressing joy, as if to say, "Yeah, this is good, this is very good."
You're right baby, this is very good. This life we've been given. The simple joys we often take for granted. In the rain and in the sunshine we can say, there is goodness, it is well. You, albeit unknowingly, are beholding these truths by way of the tangible nature around us. But, for me, these truths visible to the eye ring true in the deepest parts of my spirit. For I'm learning, and you will grow to learn as well, that we must hold on to the promise that there is peace to be found in the both the ease and the discomfort. There is grace bestowed in the triumph as well as the defeat. There is growth in the healing but also in the brokenness.
It's a normal day, but it's moments like these, the daily run-of-the-mill ones, that remind me of this: God desires to do the most profound of works among the seemingly small moments of life. He wants to meet us here. For it's in these moments that, if we stop and listen, we will surely hear the still, small voice of our mighty and awesome God, calling us to Him, beckoning us to the desires of His heart. When we recognize Him and His presence, these moments are not small at all; they are monumental, powerful, even life-altering.
The weighty nature of such moments as these has been brought into a greater degree of focus since you entered my life, little one. I'm glad God gave me you for many reasons, but one of the reasons I'm most thankful is that by giving me you, God has slowed the pace of my life. He has brought me to a standstill of sorts and helped me to see the profoundness of the present moment that I may have otherwise allowed to pass me by. By giving me you, God has given me a new set of eyes. He has altered my vision in a way that allows me to see Him more clearly. Although it has been uncomfortable at times to slow down and settle into the simplicity of this season, that discomfort is a result of the surgery taking place in my heart that was oh so desperately needed. It's allowed for a stretching of my spirit that's made way for growth and healing.
So, today we sat and watched the rain fall and we got out and experienced the warmth of the sunshine. You learned about God's nature and so did I. By this big, little moment we are reminded He is good. He is very good.
In view of God's mercy,