Perspective

Yesterday afternoon, a very sweet friend of mine shared a post through social media. A collection of words that would undoubtedly touch a.n.y.o.n.e.’s heart. A story that totally and completely broke mine into a million pieces

She prefaced her sharing by requesting prayers for this incredible family. And their fight. Their very public journey. Their overwhelming sadness. Their indescribable sense of finally being at peace. I love being a prayer warrior. It is something that costs nothing but a few moments of your time. Something that anyone can give.

Staring at the photo left me without words. Only feelings. I knew this was something I had to read. What I didn’t know was just what kind of emotion this was going to bring to surface. Stir around. How I would sit at the screen for the next 30 minutes, with tears streaming down my face. Uncontrollably. Reading post-after-post-after-post about this family’s journey.

I was reading about one of my absolute worst fears ever. If not, the worst.

A mother losing her life.

And leaving behind precious beings in her wake.

Who will never have the chance to know just. how. amazing. she. really. was.

Oh, beautiful souls, I can’t even make it through this post without tears welling up. Staring at this photograph of such a courageous, amazing woman. Cuddling her absolutely precious baby. While losing her battle with such a selfish disease.

It was too much.

I spent the rest of the day trying to keep my too-tired-from-battling-two-little-tots-back-to-bed-all-night swollen, puffy eyes open. Several times, I glanced in the mirror.

“How selfish of me.” I thought.

Over.

And over.

And over again.

My heart swelled as I huffed-and-puffed, bending over. To pick up the aftermath of a joyous day’s work, in the eyes of three vibrant girls. I stopped to catch my breath. To try to put a halt to the “worst-mommy-moments” movie-reel that was spinning out-of-control through my whirling mind. Trying to rid myself of the guilt for the countless times I raised my voice. I lost my patience. I mumbled. I grumbled. I told her “in a minute”.

All while envisioning this courageous warrior praying for any-and-every moment possible with her beautiful little girl.

Talk about perspective.

There I was. Literally reading about someone experiencing my absolute worst fear in life. With such a strong spirit and incredible attitude.

And here I spent my morning. Grouchy. Tired. Short-tempered. Complaining about two little beauties trying to climb in our bed over-and-over again to “cuddle with Mommy and Daddy.”

Ashamed doesn’t even cover it.

I am a worrier. There is no getting around that. Becoming a mother has only intensified my anxieties in a way that I never could have imagined was possible. Worst-case scenarios roll through my head on a daily basis. Snatching the joy right from under this fearful mama’s nose. Every. single. day.

But one thing I am working overtime to inhale is that “live-in-the-moment” mentality. Because, really-and-truly, incredible beings, tomorrow is never promised. This is something I need to work on grasping, more than anything in the world.

Shifting perspective. Embracing today’s beauty. Remembering that worrying only empties today of its joys. And that in its place, all God asks is for my prayers. Of praise. Thanksgiving. Need.

Knowing deep within my mourning heart and overwhelmed soul…

“God {always} has a reason for allowing things to happen. We may never understand His wisdom. But we simply have to trust His will.” (Psalm 37:5)