When I sit and nurse in the early morning or the middle of the night, and all is quiet and peaceful as my baby gazes sweetly at me, or snoozes contentedly, the moments are almost sacred in their serenity. Yet even then, I can't help but make lists of chores for the day, errands to run, and shopping that needs to be done.
We are constantly on the move, aren't we? If we're not on our way somewhere, we're planning our next trip whether to the grocery store or an exotic island getaway. The problem I'm mulling over though, isn't so much about living in motion versus stillness, but more about living in the present instead of the future.
Lecturing Angie makes me acutely aware of the trap we all fall into so easily. I get frustrated with her because she always seems to be complaining about her current circumstances or looking forward to future ones. For years, she dreamed about having a little sibling, and now that she has one she moves on to daydreaming about her fun summer plans. Instead of vocalizing her joy about her little brother, she complains about school and the trials of homework and seventh grade frenemies.
But really her "I can't wait till this next thing happens," attitude is not much different from our own as adults. At work, how many of us are living for the weekend? At home, aren't so many of us just surviving till we get the kids down for the night? How many people countdown the days till their next vacation?
In the bigger picture in parenting, we so often take for granted the stage they're in right now, while waiting for the next milestone that will make life easier. Once he sleeps through the night, we'll be cruising. When she starts walking I won't have to carry her everywhere. When he can talk I'll understand what he needs. After they're all in school I'll have some semblance of my freedom back. When the oldest starts driving I'll no longer be the family's taxi service. Once they're all off to college, we'll be able to travel... Eventually, they'll have kids of their own, we'll be grandparents, and then we'll sit back and enjoy!
It's easy for me to write this now, because for the first time I can remember, I have nothing to look forward to. And that is the best compliment I can give my life.
For nearly 25 years, I was working to get to the next level of education, culminating finally in graduation from veterinary school. Before I had even become comfortable in that new role as a vet I set my sights toward moving to the mission field. After a year of rigorous fundraising I made it to my goal and headed for Bolivia. For six months in language school I fantasized about being able to minister fluently in Spanish. And shortly thereafter, I began the roller coaster waiting game of adopting Angie. In the meantime, I was falling in love and eager to take the next step toward marriage. Once we tied the knot, it seemed like everyone around us had babies and was asking us about our plans for more kids. And the ultimate test of anyone's ability to be satisfied with their current state is of course, pregnancy, it's even referred to as "expecting."
But now, since our bundle of joy has joined the family, and I've recovered fully from the trauma of letting him into the world, I can honestly say I have nothing to look forward to. I have nowhere I need to go. There are fun trips on the horizon, and it will be wonderful when the baby can hold his gigantic head up on his own, but this place feels so good. It's lovely to think you could be stuck in the movie Groundhog's Day with a day just like today, and not really mind at all. Even as Zy sits next to me fussing and I have no idea what he needs, I'd be okay if nothing ever changed.
So, really I can't blame Angie, I've been living the rat race all my life too, I just happen to be in a sweet spot.
This Mother's Day, whether you're a mother or not, I pray we can all focus on what we have to be thankful for now. That we can all have a day we'd be happy to repeat. That we can sit and appreciate it for a second before moving on to see what's next. And I pray that before the next trial inevitably comes that I can learn, as Paul did, that contentment is not about the pleasant circumstances we find ourselves in, but an act of the will to trust that the Lord has put us right where we are and to find the joy He meant for us in that place.
"I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation,"
- Philippians 4:12
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