My memory is not as crisp as it used to be.
I don't remember birthdays. I'm the worst with names of new folks. I still have to consult my recipe cards even if it's a favorite I can whip up in my sleep.
Although I am seemingly growing in my forgetfulness, there are things I don't want to slip away...
I don't want to forget how I felt watching my brave girl during her test. My heart stirred as I wanted her to know she was safe as I continued to exercise the muscle of letting go of the control I want and contending for families who live this out every day.
|gastrointestinal scans at the hospital|
I don't want to forget how she looks at me when she's serving up love and I'm blessed to be the recipient.
Or how they follow him to his car every morning because they miss him already.
I don't ever want to forget what it means to be a wife and a mama. That rising early to prepare and plan, to soak in His presence. That providing meals and changing diapers, to teaching and leading them daily. Reading Runaway Bunny for the hundredth time and doing heaps of laundry each day, laying down to sleep at night to do it all over again the next day.
That it's an honor.
I will never forget the gratitude my heart is dancing in today as the doctor's report says my girl is healthy and fine, that her intestines and stomach will not require surgery but the mama will say farewell to weekly ice cream sundaes and add another medicine to bunny's routine for severe reflux.
We will remember He holds her in His hands and He will grow her and increase her weight.
He is so good. And I never want to forget that.