The recent silence on this little space can be attributed to the survival mode I feel like I have been operating in these last few weeks. It’s funny—as an adult, I think we tend to say that being a child is so easy. You don’t have to worry about anything, you get to play all day, you get to nap every day, etc. But from what I have seen of my sweet little girl’s last few months especially, growing and developing and discovering must be quite hard as well. Skipped naps and swollen gums and emotions that are not yet realized and understood have all brought us a rather difficult winter. Most days, I feel like I am just trying to make it to bedtime again, and then feel guilty that this is my mindset. I don’t know how to help my days feel any different, really, but I was reminded yesterday of what this season is offering to me if I have the courage and grace to accept it: happiness.
One of my husband’s colleagues who is becoming a wonderful friend to us reminded me yesterday that the life of Christ is a life of service, and it is in living the life that Christ lived that we find happiness. Being united more and more to Him means living more and more as He did. And I can see, although dimly, that the diapers, the cleaning, the neediness, the laundry, the midnight wakings, the meals, the bathtimes, are all moments of Christ offering His life to me. And in that life, there is happiness.