A Punch to the Heart

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Sometimes life can be going along fine – nice and quiet – enjoyable and content even.  Then the words of a 4 year old can punch you right in the gut – make you stop and catch your breath.  Words that can make you smile and nod and make the appropriate mommy sounds, kiss him and squeeze him good night – tell him you love him to the moon and back and to the sun and forever and ever – then walk out of his room and sigh and whimper just a bit.  

Tonight at bedtime Davy and I were having our usual bedtime discussion as I got him ready.  He was filling me in on all the important things I needed to know today.  Tonight’s conversation began with the certainty that he wanted to be a policeman when he grew up.  As I listened to him jabber about his future job I was struck unprepared when he told me he wanted to have a “bwother to be a policeman with him.  They would police guys together and then maybe there would be another bwother – a baby bwother to be a policeman too.” 

Oh sweet little man – mama would give the world to give you your wish – if only it were that easy.  Just when you think you’re growing content with your circumstances – that you are okay with the place you have landed – the carpet can be yanked tugged out from under your steady feet and you find yourself crying for what might have been, what you wish was.  And in that moment you realize you still want more – you still ache for the dream that was.  I’ll go to sleep tonight with a prayer that I have prayed too often – a wish, a plea, a cry on my lips.  If only – and it’s so hard in this place to pray “Father your will and not my own”  when really I want His will to be the same thing I want.  

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