I spent the last moments of my 34th birthday lying on the floor of my youngest daughter’s nursery. Over the last hour, I’d pat my 15-month-old’s back as she dozed off to sleep, attempted to sneak off only to hear her cry, no scream, for me to come back and repeat the process. So at 11:40 pm, I gave in, grabbed a blanket and pillow from our couch, and lay next to my little girl. From her view, she could see the safety in my eyes and from mine I could see the peace and rest that my presence brought her.
I remember the days when birthdays were celebrated with a group of friends, traveling to new cities, attending music festivals and catching a late night movie. It’s easy to reminisce on those moments and envy the days gone by. It’s so easy to compare your former life to your current one and find discontentment. Don’t even get me started on the moment I saw a 34th birthday celebration of another mother of two on Instagram that looked quite different than what I had experienced.
“He has made everything beautiful in its time…”
We seem to easily get caught in the waiting room of life—waiting for the next big thing. When we were kids, we couldn’t wait to be teens; when we were finally teenagers, we couldn’t wait for high school, then college, then to be done with college. We couldn’t wait to move out and live on our own, then we couldn’t wait to get to married. Once we have kids, we can’t wait until they sleep through the night, or don’t have to be carried, or can get dressed on their own, or pick up after themselves.
It’s so very easy to get caught up in the inconvenience and the discomfort in our current season. We oftentimes miss the beauty right in front of our very eyes. There is beauty in eating cereal in your pjs on the couch at 7:30 p.m. on a Saturday. There is beauty in having a quiet spaghetti dinner with your husband. There is beauty in a messy house filled with laundry and evidence of children playing everywhere. There is beauty in everything, especially when it has been graced with God’s perfect timing.
There are plenty of days that I miss that beauty. I’m frustrated when I wake up in the middle of the night because my toddler had an accident and my baby refuses to sleep. I struggle with juggling the stress of my career, being a mother and wife and having some semblance of a social life. I have battled comparison, jealousy, self-doubt and depression because I have lost sight of the beautiful season I am currently in.
“He has made everything beautiful in its time…”
The season I am in is absolutely beautiful. ’Tis the Season of being a mother. ’Tis the Season of late nights, dirty diapers and runny noses. The season of cuddles, kisses and my toddler’s artwork created just for me. ’Tis the Season of being a wife. ’Tis the Season of putting down toilet seats, date nights, movies in bed once the kids finally go to sleep, and little acts of service, which is my new love language. I will search for and appreciate that beauty each and every day, because it is truly a gift.
Around 1:30 a.m., the day after my birthday, I woke up to a numb arm that was stuck in the slat of the crib, my hand still resting near my daughter’s hand. She was fast asleep. I kissed her good night, and before I snuck out, I lingered for a few minutes to pray over her and thank God for my beautiful girls and this beautiful life I am living.