Sunday, September 19, 2010

A Rich Life

Dear Sam and Max,

Around this time four years ago I was feeling big, both literally and figuratively. My stomach was stretched so far out in front of me that I was constantly losing my balance, and my mind and heart were stretched beyond measure as I contemplated this new journey God had chosen for me. Twins.  And not just twins... twin boys. 

Really God? Not just one boy but two, and at the same time? Are You sure there's not some other woman better equipped for the rigors of two little look-alike bundles of energy?

Quite frankly, I'd grown to fancy myself more of a girl mommy. I am one of three girls, after all, and Chloe is about as girly as any little girl can get. I had gotten pretty good at dresses and sweet little songs and ponytails and baby dolls. My friends' boys scared the daylights out of me with their loudness and messiness and constant wrestling, qualities so clearly innate that I found myself shuddering with gratefulness on the way home from playdates that they were someone else's little hoodlums.

But the ultrasound technician was unwaveringly resolute on that hot July morning as your little faces appeared on the screen in front of Daddy and I: we would be having two little boys, no question about it. Ready or not ready, you were on your way.

To say that the years since that ultrasound have been challenging would be an understatement. I think it's hard to be truly prepared for something you know nothing about, and I knew nothing about twins. You both cried a lot those first few months as I struggled to keep up with your needs in a sleep-deprived daze, and even now I have to make an active choice not to feel guilty about all I couldn't be as a mother to you both when you were babies. So often I wasn't patient. So often I wasn't joyful. So often the day was just about survival. I wanted to rock you and sing to you, but there were piles of laundry to be washed and beds to be made, and a toddler who needed me too. I've learned that sometimes just surviving is enough. Sometimes it is all God asks of us.

I know this is how the saying goes, but I blinked - I blinked - and you were standing in our front yard with your little backpacks on, grinning and announcing that you were ready for preschool. I dropped you off for your first day and started crying before I was even out of the classroom. The tears surprised even me - I know you're both ready for this, and I thought I was too... I guess it was just the sadness of coming to terms with how quickly time passes.

I can't slow down the hands of time, but I can be grateful for each moment in which I'm aware of the blessing God has given me in the two of you. I never would have chosen twin boys if I had been allowed to be the architect of my life. What a tremendous gift it is that we serve a God Who has better plans for us than we could ever have for ourselves. You have made my life rich with your loudness and messiness and constant wrestling.

You have made my life rich.


 "I don't think the way you think.
   The way you work isn't the way I work.
For as the sky soars high above earth,
   so the way I work surpasses the way you work,
   and the way I think is beyond the way you think."
                                                           Isaiah 55:8-11      (The Message) 

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