Time

About midnight last night, Elijah woke up and stood at the gate at his bedroom door and called for me. He has always been such a good sleeper and didn't afford me half as many opportunities to help him back to bed in the middle of the night as Andrew in toddler years. So I quickly got up and grabbed the little fella. I think he had a bad dream, pretty typical for his age. Anyway, as I held him, I realized very quickly how his body had grown from being able to fit right on my chest to now hanging off my shoulder, with limbs in every direction! I suddenly began feeling discontent with how quickly he was growing. I sat down on the couch and starting spiraling downward. My discontentment took over to such a degree that I starting feeling very sad- sad that time passes so quickly, sad that I couldn't remember every detail of days past, sad that he now says "Andrew" instead of "Drew" when calling for his brother , sad that he has outgrown some really cute clothes, sad that Andrew had outgrown those same clothes before him, sad that I had neglected such precious opportunities, sad that I hadn't spent my time more wisely... Wait a second! Thankfully, the quiet voice of the Holy Spirit convicted me at that very moment that I was sowing a future of discontentment and sadness by waisting my time right then. Memory is a precious gift and so is growing- for us all- and I can do nothing about the past. It has in fact been a means to my more sanctified present, which would be incomplete without it just as it was. I repented, thanked God for precious moments past and for the fresh, precious moments present and for the sweet, maturing, two-and-a-half year old on my lap. I gently kissed his head. Elijah in turn, feeling smothered by my attempt to cuddle him finally got frustrated with me and said, "Mommy, I want to go to Elijah's bed!" It was a nice 10 minutes.

Conviction is a wonderful thing.