This morning Daddy had to go to jury duty, so Mommy hung out with you until Abuela came to watch you at nine. It was nice: you woke up around 8, and we played the Face Game (where I help you touch and identify parts of your face and corresponding parts of my face – you get really excited about the cheeks and mouth) on the bed for a while, and then Mommy talked with you as you gazed with great focus into my eyes, and then I nursed you to sleep. And I watched you smile in your sleep. Then, when I was trying to catch a snap of you smiling in your sleep, you laughed! In your sleep! It was awesome. Mommy truly treasures these moments with you.
The past few weeks have made it apparent that it is time for a change. We've been praying for a long time about direction, and while I don't yet know where we are sailing, I do feel the wind blowing and the current rising. It's a little scary, setting sail into a horizon that is as wide and blank as the vast ocean. Yet every shiver of uncertainty is another opportunity to affirmatively place the matter before God's feet again. Peace, I am finding, is not in the absence of worry, but in the perpetual surrender of every worry as it comes—even if it comes every few moments. It is a constant turnover of the otherwise mind-boggling and crazed-eye-inducing questions of, what next? Where to? And when? And for goodness' sake, HOW?
I don't have answers to those questions because so far, God hasn't given them to us yet. All I know is that we cannot indefinitely continue on the present course. Whether you actually need more time with me may be open for debate (for science seems to suggest that you will forget all of this anyway), but I need more time with you. I cannot for much longer bear the ever-looming prospect of working through late evenings, weekends, and holidays/vacations. I actually love working, and I take great pride in the work I produce. But I take infinitely more pride in you – and love my time with you so much more. And regardless of whether you do or don't remember these beginning years, I will remember them – and grieve excessive missed hours with my little Bathands. And in any event, you're going to grow older so soon – and then without a doubt, you will need me – as I will need you. So I'm working to set the optimal stage for us.
But it's not easy.
Daddy gchatted me from court over lunchtime and commented, "I could picture you as a judge." Part of me smiled; being a judge has been a dream since I was a child. And part of me was sad. However remote the possibility of a judgeship is at this moment, it is at least a possibility – and not a completely laughable one. But with the life changes we are about to embark on, now that we are sailing when the wind starts to blow, that door will be bolted shut, barring an absolute miracle. And not to say that God can't do whatever He wants and wills – because He totally can – but it would be foolish for me to even entertain the notion any longer.
These are worthy, difficult choices, my little one. The changes that lie ahead are absolutely for worthy purposes – more time with you. More time with any siblings God gives you. More time with Daddy. And with our family, friends, community, neighbors, and all the people that make life rich and meaningful. At the same time, the shift will undoubtedly come at a cost – payment of which I have delayed for quite some time, until now.
I explain this to you because in the future, in all likelihood, you too will be confronted with worthy, difficult choices. It is my hope and prayer that with God's help and wisdom, you will have the courage, faith, and obedience to choose that which is worthy, even though it may be difficult. As your mom, I'm trying even now to model that for you as best as I can.
Love to Bathands,
Mommy
