I walked around today thinking about the little lives I held in my hands yesterday and the little dreams that sit in my heart everyday and wondered if God was trying to teach me something about the two.
I thought about how babies and dreams both grow slowly and then all at once. I thought about how sometimes they overwhelm you and scare you but how fears are overshadowed by love. I also thought about when your dreams seem to poop on you and how babies do that too and you have to clean up the mess but you still find them beautiful and at the end of the day you still want to hold them tight and never let go… sorry I talked about poop.
Anyways, I thought about the babies that go straight into Jesus' arms and the dreams that go unfulfilled. I don't know what to say about loss but all I know is that it stings. Broken dreams and broken hearts cut to the bone and leave lifelong scars. Losses shape lives just much as gains do.
Coincidentally, I read a blog post by one of my favorite authors, Donald Miller, about dreams that don't work out and the impact they have on others. You guys should all read it because he is way more eloquent than me.
Yesterday when I gazed at these sweet babies, I felt hope. It was the same kind of hope I feel when I think about grad school and future adventures and a life full of possibilities rooted in Christ. It's a nervous kind of hope, but the kind that pushes you forward and not back.
Later I'll be thankful for what Jesus showed me through all of these jumbled thoughts but for today,
I'm thankful for sore arms and a full heart.
