In someone else's shoes



Today I took my daughter to her first morning of preschool. She's my baby. My little pixie. I hate being without her. I've been all sentimental about the idea, and at a different time, in a different place, I probably would have gone to pieces. But every time I am ever tempted to feel sorry for myself, HE hits me square between the eyes with what I have been blessed with and usually reminds me of what others are facing that puts my small struggles in perspective.



I know 2 girls who live 1/2 a world apart. In the recent past they both had the same funny symptoms. Nausea, tiredness, mood swings. They both saw a doctor and got the same diagnosis. For both it was a complete surprise. Neither was expecting the beginning signs of new life to appear. But this is where their stories stop being the same. For the first girl, this new life although completely unexpected and unplanned is a source of rejoicing. Her family and her doctor stand behind her as she faces this wonderful adventure of bringing life into the world. She has the ability to welcome it, morning sickness and all, into her home and her family. Not without nervousness or fears for the future, but the ability to embrace it was her privilege and joy. For the second girl, the situation was not the same. Her unexpected blessing was viewed by all those around her as anything but that. Her doctor and her family and everyone else whose influence reached into her world told her it wasn't possible, it wasn't optional. Although she recognized the value of the gift she was given, the ability to embrace it was not given to her. Her story ended in heartbreak. Not a heartbreak that she chose but one that was chosen for her.



My little princess kissed me goodbye this morning and walked off with her pink book-bag and pink shoes and french braids. She brings the sunshine into my world every day and so does her big brother. I was a little sad to see her walking away this morning. But I'm ever so glad that I could bring her back home at lunch time, and kiss her smiling silly face, and tuck her into bed tonight. Her 3 years in my heart and life have been delightful. Way back then when the double lines appeared on the stick and I realized that the gift of life had been given to me for a second time I'm so deeply thankful that the only thing I had to feel was joy. I didn't know then what I know now. I had never walked a mile in someone else's shoes. I took it for granted. I love both of those girls who live in very different worlds. Today I rejoice with those who do rejoice and how I weep for those who do weep. This life isn't simple. It takes my breath away; the heights of joy and the depths of grief. How sometimes they happen in the same day. I know He's walked more than a mile in their hearts and mine. I'm so glad He knows, really knows, how to care for both the heart full of joy and the heart wrapped in grief as well as the self-absorbed one wrapped in apathy. My eyes are opened for a short while to see a little farther than my own shoes.

Romans 8:26, "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings to deep for words"

Romans 12:15, "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep"



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