My Father's Eye

Funny how a Mother's eyes don't see the imperfections. Though everyday I saw, I question did I really look. I should have noticed, should have seen. Instead we ended an appointment making more appointments and asking more questions instead.

Of course it could be or maybe or what if is there lingering in the space between conscious and un. That same space filled with busy hands to keep my mind from wandering too deeply, into a place I cannot fathom. A place no parent, no spouse, no child wants to be. But it's in that space......

 "What you meant for evil, I mean for good." spoken from the One whose arms are filled with my tears and fears, my could be, would be, what ifs.

Funny how a Father's Eye doesn't see imperfections, but the plans He has for us. Plans we know will change, and teach, though we don't know how~ or even why.

Will she be the tool to teach me to walk closer? To find Grace? To live for Him? To kill my pride, reach out, reach within, lose control. What is it?  What is it that I must learn?

We know this life is but a vapor......what a precious little vapor she is. They all are. And yet the days slip through my fingers unnoticed, brushed aside as if there are no miracles. As if we are not miracles breathing and dancing through this gift of hours, minutes, seconds. How many times have I wasted this miraculous breath on the useless? How many days not spent as vapor but as labor?

I so easily forget they are on loan, they aren't even mine though I carried them and birthed them and nurture them still, for what and whom, from whom?

Once again brought to my knees out of desperation to reach into some kind of control over that which I have non of, the only thing I can hold on to is prayer. And that we will do......

Because He sees, and knows and Wills. And we will ask for normality and monotony, and boring. And if we get otherwise, we'll be down on our knees again.