Contentment. The word I have chosen for this year. A goal I long to achieve. The seed I desire takes root in my heart.
Just the other day, I found myself looking out the window at my mom’s house. Staring out at the driveway. Thinking about the future. Lost in my thoughts, I was just about to let out a discontented sigh, when all of a sudden, a little boy ran around the corner and jumped full force on to my back, knocking the air, quite painfully, out of me. Frustrated, I stood up, grabbed his arm and peeled him off of me. I tossed him on the couch and gave him a “don’t mess with me” look as I walked into the kitchen. My mom was there. She took one look at me and then turned toward the dishes in the sink. She knew I was in one of “those” moods. (You know the one: the “poor me, my life stinks” kind of mood.) I leaned against the kitchen island and said, “I keep thinking that one day, things are just going to change. Like, out of the blue, a beautiful change is going to come driving down the driveway and make everything better.” She didn’t even turn around. Instead, she just plainly said, with her back to me, “well, it’s not going to happen like that.” In response, like a bratty teenager, I made a disgusted, shocked face and then rolled my eyes, which is something I hadn’t done to my mom in years! (So thankful her back was turned!) After a moment, she faced me. Softly and gently she said, her voice full of love and compassion, “and if you keep you’re thoughts focused on what could happen tomorrow, you’re going to miss today. Don’t miss today, Brooke.”
Today.
Not yesterday.
Not tomorrow.
Today.
“Don’t miss today, Brooke.”
Today, I am 29 years old. A widow. A deaf educator. A mom. I live out on my parent’s property. Next to my mom, who is also a widow. In the country. In a town I never thought I would end up in again after college. I have a son. He is strong willed; yet oh, so very precious. His name is Titus Michael; meaning “a giant; a gift from God.” He is big for his age, a thinker, and when people ask him what he wants to be when he grows up, he answers: “I want to be a mighty man!” He makes me smile. He makes me laugh. Today, he made me cry. His tantrums are fierce. His hugs are beautiful. His voice is perfect. He loves to play with our dog. A dog that showed up on our doorstep last January. Her name is Selah (say-la) Grace; meaning “to pause and reflect on the grace of God.” A name that Michael and I were going to name our first daughter. But that was then. Yesterday. This is now. Today. And today, our dog is Selah. And that’s ok. The sun is shining, the wind is cool. My blinds are open and I can hear the birds singing. Each week, I am in five different school districts; teaching deaf and hard of hearing students. Today, I'll be in two of those. My job can be stressful; but oh, so rewarding! I hope to run three miles today. I started running three years ago, after I lost my best friend to brain cancer. I wanted a challenge. Something hard. Something that I had never done before. For him. For me. I wanted to see if I could do it. And I did. Today, I’ve felt weak. I’ve fallen to my knees. HE has picked me up. HE has sang over me. HE has made me strong.
Today, I am not alone. My heart is full. My cup runneth over.
Today, I am blessed. I am protected, forgiven, cared for, and loved.
Today, I am thankful. My life is a gift. My salvation a treasure.
My hard heart is being tilled. The soil has begun to soften.
The Gardener is at work.
Contentment. The word I have chosen for this year. A goal I long to achieve. The seed I desire takes root in my heart.
Don’t miss today.
“But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the LORD’s praise, for He has been good to me.” -Psalm 13:5-6
