There ain't no life better than yours, TODAY.
Do you ever feel like you just can't wait to get to what's next?
When I'm reading board books to baby Gabrielle, she loves flipping pages (granted most of our stories are real page turners). I can barely keep up and then when we get to the end of the book, she shrieks in disappointment, regretful to have finished and fumbles to open the book and begin again.
I don't know who she gets this from.
This past spring, Nathan and I celebrated our ninth year of marriage and the last ten years hold so much good and so much growth but this last year was a lot of hard. Looking back I can see God's hand and patterns in our life and the direction He is setting when we are focused on Him. But, in that same time, I recognize a tendency in myself that I don't love. A pattern of wanting everything instantly, of rushing ahead, neck craned to see what's next, impatiently shoving aside the enjoyment and purpose of TODAY.
When we were engaged, I was excited to be married. When Nathan was in med school, I was looking forward to where we would be for his residency. Pregnancy for me (and probably everyone else who's experienced it) was nine months of impatiently waiting to meet a little human stranger who was just doing her thing, growing like she should. And now, here we are. I'm at home with the girls for this next year and we'll be spending it in a new city with a big question mark looming at the end.
And I find myself thinking:
"When I finish packing..."
"When we get settled in..."
"When we finish this year..."
"When Gabby is Emily's age we can..."
"When I go back to work..."
I constantly forget that life happens in the in-between. Or rather, life doesn't just happen in the in-between.
Life IS created and experienced in the in-between.
This month, I'm starting the Bible from the beginning and this morning, I am just sitting here staring at the life of Abraham and Sarah. What a gong show. Talk about living in the in-between. In-between places, in-between promises that haven't come true yet. In-between dangerous travels and lies. In-between messed up family drama and impulsive choices. In-between EVERYTHING.
Now, I'm no ninety-five year old hottie being pawned off as my husband's sister AGAIN, but reading the highlights of their life reminds me that how I live and what I value today is infinitely important. My small secret choices compound into direction, for me, for my family, for life.
Does that make you feel frozen into immobility?
How much time have I spent watching "The Real Housewives"?
Or eating ice cream while scrolling Facebook at 10pm?
Or doing laundry?
All is lost.
In fact, the opposite is true. Knowing that the mosaic is made up of tiny shards of jagged glass is the most freeing thing. A huge relief. A calming down. A shoulders-lowering-away-from-my-ears.
Instead of trying to sweep it all up or clutching at pieces while complaining about my bleeding hands, I just need to wonder at this one fragment refracting shimmering light, reposing gently on my open palm.
So I'm sitting in the quiet this morning, with Gabrielle sleeping soundly and I am picking all "whens" out of the divots in my clutched fists. I'm casting them down once again before the God of in-between. This Jesus. The intercessor. The bridge. The ultimate in-between.
I want to be faithful in these small days.
I want to be the Queen of In-Between.
P.S. I will have to keep watching "The Real Housewives." I'm a real sucker for cautionary tales.
P.P.S. If you liked that first song, I've been reflecting on this one also.