Once, when Josh was still very small, my mother-in-law turned to me and said:
"You know, it's like he's always been here."
And right there, in those eight words, she perfectly captured my faith in God.
There are days, like today, when I look at my child and I can almost see eternity stretching backward like a long unfurling satin wing. We've been on this path together for a while now, though we've forgotten the greater part. But it was only just tonight, while I had my hands in a bubbly sink full of dishes, that I came to understand the significance of that.
I often think to myself: I am failing my child.
I am a terrible mother.
I can't believe I just did that, again!
What is wrong with me? These kids are making me crazy and they're not even doing anything wrong!
I should not be his/her mother.
It's no wonder we don't have any more kids. I don't deserve them.
Well, you get the idea. I am always surprised when I hear other women express similar thoughts or feelings, especially the women who continually amaze me with their creativity, energy, and down-right awesomeness. But, that is perhaps a whole other conversation.
Tonight, hands in the sink, right after I thought I am a failure as his mother, it came to me that no, I had it all wrong. In fact, I wasn't failing as his mother - I was chosen to be his mother because I have some special skill or talent that he needs to get through mortality in one whole, healthy, happy piece.
I have no idea what tha skill is, mind you. But, I feel like there is more truth in this idea than I've been able to recognize before. And it's not that I'm somehow spiritually connected and so in the zone that suddenly God shined a light over my sink and the heavens opened and sang.
No, it was quieter, softer, gentler.
And that's why I trust it.