Obviously, given the time of year, I've been thinking a lot about all I have to be grateful for. It seems I'm standing outside a lot trying to watch out of the corner of my eye for Herbie to poop so that has become my thinking time. Fall has definitely fell and he loves playing in each and every leaf of it.
My list of everything I'm grateful for is endless. That's a rather trite phrase but it's true. This particular thing I'm grateful for will be judged differently by everyone but, just the same, it's something that is at the forefront of my life. At points it may take on a discouraged tone, but that is how it has to be in order for me to truly appreciate and be grateful for the epiphelation that I have been given in the acceptance of it. Besides, you'd be shocked if anything I wrote on here made straightforward sense!
There was a post on FaceBook by my niece. She said, "I'm glad my daughter can talk to me about anything." Her daughter is eight years old and that is definitely an accomplishment to be proud of. A trust like that does not come without a lot of concentrated effort.
I like to trick myself into believing I had that kind of relationship with my children. I loved talking to them and prided myself that they would come to me. Now they're older, though, I wonder if I'm stuck in the past. I'm not sure I grew up with their problems and concerns. I still want to have a small one come and sit on my lap and let me read to them or comfort a broken heart by making cookies or put a band-aid on their latest owey or ask me to help them build with their bricks or blocks. I want to be invited into their fantasies one more time. Put our imaginations together to create a world where everyone is safe and ice goes in drinks instead of smashed fingers.
It seems like all I say now is, "What do you think?"; "How does that make you feel?" or "That's a decision only you can make." I don't have a place within the immediate walls of their world now. I live on the other side of the moat and must wait patiently for the drawbridge to be lowered, allowing me entrance.
There were no fireworks or massive fanfares or a ritual passing of batons. The change occurred unnoticed by everyone involved at first. Unnoticed, that is, until a block tipped over or a page in the book ripped or the band-aid fell off. That's when I realized I was watching from a greater distance and must pull back into the forest while someone else tended to the repairs, the entertainment and even the maintenance.
So much of life we aren't prepped for - can't be, actually. Kind of a different feeling still wearing the armor but not being on the front lines.
But, you know what? Even across the moat; even when the bridge is up; even when I may not be heard - I can cheer! There is a constant conversation going on in my head and my heart as I pray in a 'cheer'ful way! I will always be found rooting for the good guys! And when one of them tells me things are better because they prayed, I will do a somersault! It might not be pretty, but I'll do it. Now, if you were to ask for the splits, we might have to have a conversation!
Thanks to all of you for allowing me the chance to cheer for you!