The journey to peace comes by way of blessings. Counting blessings. Those little and big reminders given to us so that we can remember this: life is good. That life is more than good- it is stellar. Even in the moments we oft would erase. For those moments build character and endurance. They make us stronger. They perfect us from the inside out.
We initiated our oldest into his freshman year of junior high school (by way of a back-to-school party). It was a painful night in some ways, exciting in others. There were some very obvious signs being sent my way that Son was not interested in being seen with us, his family. Nor did he appreciate his mama asking any questions or volunteering any information. Painful. Searing pain, both physical and emotional. Am I ready for this? Is he?
But it was exciting nonetheless to see him amongst his peers, to meet with his teachers and to see what his school environment would look like for the upcoming school year. To see the apprehension and fear mixed with curiosity and delight. To know for myself where he will be even as I am teaching my own little class in another classroom, in another school. All this emotion. Enough to bust a mother’s heart.
And tonight, it is tempting to sit and think sad thoughts. About fleeting time and changing seasons and growing up. It is tempting to will time to stand still. Or to wish hard enough that clocks would turn back to sweeter days when a mother’s arms were enough. To want to return to bygone days that have become sanctified in the memory, bathed in the glorious, reflective light of a twilight reminiscence. How we tend to remember everything as though viewing through that lens of rose-colored glasses.
But time grows fuller still as we lean into the seconds, minutes, hours and days. It becomes richer more with life and experience than it ever could by standing constant. So I’ll not wish and waste precious moments of today. Time is fleeting.
I count blessings instead. I am blessed because I have been endowed with the treasure of him. Who is…
…a child healthy, bright and able to perform and complete the necessary tasks set before him
…whom is willing to push himself outside his comfort zone
…who has consented to music classes this school year, in spite of the stigma
…who is organized (his backpack for school neatly packed and arranged just so)
…who appreciates where he came from and knows where he is going
…whose soul knows deeper things than those thoughts that merely scratch the surface
…and who has faith in God while yet unseen.
It is hard to sometimes count blessings. This evening was more difficult than the words can share. And some things are better left unsaid. There are ways in which a mother’s heart sears with pain, and only another soul could understand who has but felt it through their own experience in mothering a child. It is hard to move from safe harbours into deeper, more turbulent waters. As are those I’m wading in.
But I will try to move forward, keeping with the current. And will doubtless count the blessings as I go.