The small things of life don't often get our attention until they surface as life-giving moments.
I'm counting things in smaller portions now that I'm a mom: milliliters, ounces, inches. Small plates of food versus a real meal, fifteen minute naps or fifteen minute feedings, two hours of sleep or none at all. Each element of life becomes more valuable to me as I accomplish my day, success or disaster. And that's just it--there will be either success or disaster and acceptance of both.
How else could we live?
However you measure your life, each step of it requires acceptance and acknowledgment before moving on. I cringe at how many times I've tried to move on before accepting something about myself and my life, and how counterproductive this was.
As I accept each small thing, each life-giving moment, I see and feel something new. I can't seem to tire of waking Isabella for her feeding--warm, wrapped in a bundle, fragrant soft skin, laid out in a stretch on the sofa when I go to change her diaper. I marvel at her. She is perfectly formed--exactly the way God wanted her, and perfect for us. She tests my husband and I not because she taunts--we are tested because we should be. Each cry, whimper, coo, sigh washes over us and makes us different. New. Better. I wonder who I will become as much as I wonder who she will become. There's selfishness in us but it comes undone, little by little.
Funny how such a small and vulnerable creature can make us vulnerable, too.