Little Shoes

It was one of those moments that make you stop in your tracks and try to catch your breath because the wind has slightly been knocked out of you; I saw my daughter's shoes. Yes, those are the shoes she has wanted to wear with every outfit since we got them for her (no matter what the color/pattern/style of the outfit or the amount of rain/snow). They are also the very same ones I asked her to put away twice earlier in the afternoon. Under normal circumstances, seeing the shoes out would have simply provoked a deep grunting "ugh" as I reluctantly returned them to their spot in the closet myself. This wasn't one of those normal moments.

This was a take-your-breath-away moment. I have had several in life that I can recall. I remember the moment I realized that I wanted to marry Chris (along with the times where we lock eyes, and he still manages to make my stomach drop). I remember putting my tiny, 6 pound baby boy in the back seat of the Exterra and being overwhelmed with the reality that we were allowed to bring him home from the hospital; he was really ours. I remember the moment when I had the two kids next to me on the couch when I first brought Abigail home; my cheeks felt like my smile would burst right off as a joyful tear or two tricked down. At that moment I understood that I was a mother of both a boy and a girl, and they would grow up together. I have had abundantly thankful moments where I became very aware and grateful for living were we do in America, in a stunningly beautiful area of Oregon where certain views still make me pause to admire, and a warm safe home that I get the privilege of both living and working in that often provokes great awe (usually when the children are sleeping, it's clean and quiet) .

The little shoes gave me a moment last night. I stopped in my tracks and couldn't take my eyes off the little brown slip-ons with the pink beaded flowers. At that moment, I remember that I had a little girl who belongs to those shoes, safely sleeping upstairs. She was mine; I was her mother. That opened the floodgates. I was so thankful to God for how richly He has blessed our family, how He has blessed me. For four years, as we tried for children through battles with infertility, our prayer was, "Lord, You know our hearts' desire is to be parents. At the same time, we only want what is in Your will. We don't want to long for anything apart from Your will. So, please, give us children or completely strip us of the desire so that we would be content and only long for what You want for us." We really meant that!

Here we are, all these years later, with two beautiful, healthy children who we have been allowed to love, parent and raise up. It is overwhelming to be reminded of how far we have come from those aching hearts who only pictured living in a house filled with little shoes. We don't have to dream, long for, pray for or imagine anymore. They are ours. Our great God heard our prayers and answered in a way that gave us a house that holds little brown shoes with pink flowers. I know that it was nothing we did; our children are a gift entrusted to us. At that moment I was abundantly grateful. Thank you, sweet Jesus, for our "little shoes."