Because, seriously, if God knew how happy I am and how well-loved and cared for and treasured, surely he'd have to make the decision to spread the joy around a little bit more. This tiny apartment we live in? Yes, it's crowded sometimes but I am perfectly content here. Our business is sometimes stressful but Warren loves his work, and we spend the majority of our hours together every day. At this very moment there's a baby that's kicking me from the inside. Earlier this year we miscarried for a second time and I honestly wondered if I'd ever be able to carry another baby full-term. Today my womb is full of life -- a healthy, vibrant life that we will get to meet in just a couple months. And there's that little boy who is so.very.inquisitive and observant and full of joy. Some people never know what it's like to be a parent, and here I am with my arms full of toddler sweetness and a belly quite literally filled to the brim with an infant. I could stop with all of this and anyone would agree that I've had way more than my share of dessert. But the icing on the cake? That Lover-man who is astonishingly wonderful and cares for me even more exuberantly than the year I fell in love with him, and invests so much in my heart. Our marriage is a safe haven of conflict-free bliss.
I'm not bragging. I have no intention of writing something that portrays my life as perfect, stress-free or immune to the real world with the result of arousing jealousy in a cyber crowd. I'm just writing what's been going through my head for weeks.
For weeks I've been afraid to put these words on paper because I might as well be a five-year-old calling attention to the distracted adult who just gave me seconds on dessert. And as much as that adult loves the five-year-old, the second helping will inevitably be taken away in the name of health and fairness. Or, at the very least, it'll be split with the other half-dozen children at the table and two extra bites will be the final portion.
It occurred to me the other day that living in fear of having my unexpectedly wonderful life shadowed by tragedy, poverty or some other catastrophe, is not God's ideal. It's possible that he is actually aware of what he's given me, and even gets a kick out of watching me enjoy it. I know, the concept is hard to grasp--at least for me, who has always struggled with an inaccurate view of God. Nonetheless, it seems like I'm giving God an unfair shake to react to this kind of abundance with fist-clenching fear.
I'm not really sure how to sit back and enjoy all of this. How to soak in the sheer happiness. How to relish each bite of o-so-sweet goodness as if a second portion isn't actually an accident. But somehow it seems like that will bring God the most delight.
And if God is anything like the person he says he is, I have a feeling that he might just really like that.
