On Growing Up and Letting Go

Maria's beautiful blog post about her daughter has been on mind these past few days.

This week Maddy had the opportunity to work with a professional photographer at a wedding. (I would give you a link, but she doesn't quite have a site up and running yet.) She was really just acting as an apprentice, watching and learning and helping in whatever way necessary. She was even encouraged to take her own photographs.

As nervous as she was, I was more so. As I waited for her to finish at the rehearsal where she did a walk through and planning with the photographer, I had to fight every urge in me to step in, to give advice, even to give an encouraging word. I knew that this was her passion, her world and now was the point at which I needed to hang back and let her go forward without me. She needed to learn these new things on her own, from the real expert. It was so hard! My heart was swelling with pride and love and I just wanted to smother her with it. What a shame if I had! More than anything, I want this passion and talent to grow and develop. This is her unique talent and I realize that it is a delicate balance now to nurture it without smothering it.

Contrast these thoughts with what I experienced last night. I was once again captivated by John's perfect little hands and sweet smile as I nursed him to sleep. As he drifted off in his favorite spot, right in my arms, I was overcome with emotion. I was suddenly seized with an aching desire that he stay so perfectly little forever. My heart ached at the thought of how quickly he will grow, suddenly a toddler, a little boy, a teen, a man. Have nearly six months really gone by? And even as I felt that pain, I knew it would be wrong to keep him from what God has planned. Given everything we went through to get him here, I can only imagine. So I asked God to never let me forget that exact moment, his quiet, utterly peaceful breathing and how overwhelming in love I am with this boy. I told God that if this was the only memory I could have as I lay dying I would certainly be assured of a happy death.