Oh earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you....

I had a strange experience today.

I was up at the University to look at my neighbor's pieces in the student art show.  Not being familiar with the building, it took me a little wandering to find the gallery housing the show.  In my wandering, I went up and down stairs and around various halls.  I passed many stereotypical COLLEGE motifs... from friends taking photos, students crashed out asleep on a benches, kids studying, professors advising.  And I had this feeling creep over me.  Wistful.  Sad.  Longing.  Dread.  Finality.  And I wanted so badly to be able to go back in time and do my college years over again.  To really enjoy and appreciate all the things that time of life held.  Knowing that the time is past.  over.  gone.

Maybe that's what a mid-life crisis feels like.

I don't think I'm headed toward the purchase of an expensive red sports car to prove my virility.... but it has hit me quite often recently that some seasons of my life have ended.  Like the moment you look down at your naked belly and realize you will never again feel the flutter, nudges and bubbles that represent someone else's life there inside you.  Or the day you pack up and give away the last of the baby clothes.   Or the day your baby turns eight.  It's a strange thing to be on the other side of so many of the big milestones of life.

When I was in junior high we read Our Town by Thornton Wilder.  Honestly, the play didn't do anything for me.  Until we reached the end.  The final scenes, when Emily revisits her life, really moved me.  Her question "do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? - every, every minute?" brought me to tears even way back then, when I was too young and immature to really understand her question.  But now, as I'm starting to understand how "our life can pass away like a dream" (Jacob 7:26), I am able to catch a glimpse of how wonderful life is.  Every.  Single.  Stressful.  Dirty.  Imperfect.  Minute. 

I told myself years ago I would stop waiting.  Stop dreaming.  Stop wishing.  And start LIVING. 

But I'm human.

And I forget.

I forget how wonderful it is to remind kids to practice the piano.  To break up sibling fights.  To teach my children to be responsible.  To be irritated with my husband.  To spend long nights catching up the laundry.  To fight the weeds in the yard.  To scoop my kitties poop.  To have a less than perfect dog.  To get up every day and go to work.  To live.


Thank you, God, for my life.