Live it Like you Love it.

Mimi,

Here’s a tip that will help you avoid blowing lots of dragon breath.  It’s a little something I call steady-as-we-go.  It started when I couldn’t get the same-named Dave Matthews tune out of my head. Mr. Matthew’s wrote it as a love song, but to me it’s a mindset.

Several weeks ago we took a stellar vacation.  You kids traveled so well until your brother contracted food poisoning in the Portland Airport with one flight left. And even then he was fine, until a few minutes prior to our final touchdown. I knew it was bad when your daddy turned to me and mimed “He had an accident.” From across the isle, I winced and held up two fingers with raised eyebrow and got confirmation. Number two.

Within minutes I heard  the noise.  You know the one. The noise a child makes when their tummy is upset, the other way. I instinctively threw baby wipes across the aisle like a good hail Mary pass. Daddy pushed the flight attendant button and she threw, I-kid-you-not, three dry paper towels from her jump seat. Imagine if this happened at home. I think, quite possibly, that dry paper towels might just be the last thing I would give a sick child. A moist towel, yes. A bucket, yes. A cup of water, yes. Three industrial-style pieces of dry sandpaper, no.

After an eternity, we finally deboarded the puddle jumper. I carried him down the steep stairs and into the cold night air. I tried not to loose my own dinner when he nuzzled into me and I felt multiple types of secretions seep through my sweatshirt.

Instead, I smiled and sung into his ear, I’d walk halfway around the world just to sit down by your side.

These are my overwhelming circumstances. You have yours, and these are mine. Regardless, we can wallow if we want, or we can choose to live in the moment, to focus on “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy (Phil 4:8). I’m thinking that Christ wants us to live it like we love it. To suck the marrow.

So how do I do that? Well, look at this story. Did you get the part where he nuzzled into me? Could you almost hear him affectionately whisper “Mama,” when I chose to hold him tighter? This child will no doubt have bigger problems. Perhaps only for a short time will my lingering embrace solve them. If you ask me, that’s pure. That’s lovely. That is excellent. That’s my focus. Steady as we go. You cannot worry about the next problem coming down the pipe. I knew I had no pull ups in my bag for this otherwise potty trained individual. I knew in a matter of minutes I’d be standing in a frigid airport bathroom trying to squeeze him into his baby sister’s diaper. Oh he’d fit.

But in that moment I didn’t worry. I chose to live in the snuggle of the most amazing three year old boy I’ve ever laid eyes on. 

P.S. David Matthews did not teach me this lesson on motherhood, my imaginary friend Larry did.