And so we have crawled out of the pneumonia crisis. Amos is breathing fine, and it was relatively and easy recovery. The chiropractor has helped immensely.
I have so much to say, as it always seems. So many memories I haven't captured, amidst the buysness and craziness. So many lessons unjournaled and transformations, of my rapidly growing toddler, and of my own heart left to be documented. I need to pause time. Take a breath. Hold onto Amos as a little boy, who still fits around the curve of my stomach.
But, alas, I can't. Time keeps on moving. Time as a mother, and time as a sojourner.
I've been reading through old journals from the months before I met Ricky. Confession is, I have been a terrible journaler since moving to San Diego. Terrible. I tell myself these will be remembered as the silent years, as I hope it to never be that way again.
And in this looking back, it seems absolutely ridiculous how the time has flew by. Only moments ago I was a little girl, whose worries were within the realm of one person - no husband to follow, to son to rest on my hip. How different my interactions with the Lord were, and how small my troubles now seem.
And here I am with a little boy. I don't really have many conclusions within this overwhelming weight of the brevity of life - of the quickness this all goes by.
It just reminds you to keep living, and to live well.
It's funny to think where I thought I'd be by this time, specifically in the realm of my relationship with the Lord. We'll see what this next season holds. I feel the breath of promise, of newness, of settling back into some of the old ways He use to speak. I miss those times, greatly.
|Amos helping with dying Easter Eggs. Days before he got pneumonia. ;(|