Writer. Mom. Daydreamer. Dog's Best Friend.
We are in a lovely restaurant, just the three of us: Daddy, Mommy, and Baby Girl. We are here because our little one has qualified for the Junior Olympics in two events, in this her first year to run track. She is only eight, but she can run the 800 meter in under three minutes.
Impressive for anyone, but even more so if you know Baby Girl like I do.
Suddenly, I am overwhelmed with the significance of the moment. I look up at her and my eyes fill with tears.
“Sweetheart,” I say. “If someone had told me 4 years ago that we would be sitting here, I would never have believed it.”
Then, I look up to see tears in her Daddy’s eyes as well.
“Why are you guys crying?” she asks.
“Happy,” says Daddy.
“Thankful,” I add.
Suddenly, my heart journeys back through time to those dark, weary days when I despaired that she would ever come home. Then, it travels on to the first months post homecoming when she was so broken in body, mind, and spirit.
I could feel the grief, the sorrow, the heartbreak, all again.
I shake my head to clear the memories away, and smile down at her through my tears.
She is here. Smiling, happy, thriving, but healing still.
There is no way to begin to measure the goodness of God.
“We went through fire and through water; but You brought us out to rich fulfillment.” Psalm 66:12
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