I wake up this morning, and when I open my eyes–I can SEE.
And I’m thankful.
I walk out the door to the wind blowing the fallen leaves.
I can hear them rustling.
And I dwell on the thought that many around me in this senior adult living facility struggle with both of these.
I walk out the door–and I CAN WALK. On both feet. With relative ease.
Sometimes life brings us challenges that remind us to be thankful for the small things. Things that we take for granted every day.
I have spent the last several days with my college son after he broke his leg in three places and dislocated his foot at the ankle after falling from a warped wall in the Ninja Warrior Gym. He has only 6 weeks until he graduates and the next two just might be a bigger wall to climb, proving his true Ninja self!
Time with my son makes me grateful, even when the circumstances are not so pleasant. He’s a man now, and because he’s the youngest of four, it’s a sobering thought that my role as Mom is experiencing a type of metamorphosis…
Walking through the leaves on a fall day brings back so many childhood memories of kids jumping and playing in and throwing leaves. The carefree spirit of a child at play is a gift that I revel in. No worries, no fears. Just complete joy. Complete peace. The tree stands tall, and as I see those leaves falling I am reminded that the beauty of the fallen leaves means that even though they are separated from the tree and are dying, there is beauty for us to enjoy. The spectacular colors are a canvas of God’s creativity, and we know that come spring, small new buds will emerge and we will experience their glory once again.
These changes don’t make the tree any less valuable or less beautiful. Every season brings its own beauty.
And so the seasons of our life.
My mom always told me, “I will always be your mom, and you’ll always be my little girl.”–And I totally get it. The love and compassion and protectiveness you feel as a mother never changes. The role changes, but our hearts do not. We are just as connected to the ones that are near and the ones that are far. We rejoice with them and we hurt with them. Our prayers continue and multiply as our family increases. The foundation of faith that was built in our home continues to grow us and sustain us. The landscape of our home might look different, but the foundation remains the same.
Our faith, our hope will not be shaken. Trials come to all of us, but our God is bigger, taller than any challenge. He is faithful to see us through and take the parts of us that have fallen (sorry, Jarrett!) and make them into tall tales of His goodness.
“Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them; let all the trees of the forest sing for joy.” Psalm 96:12