Joseph’s eye surgery is done. Behind us. And it went so well. In fact, he has 20/20 vision in both eyes and both eyes are straight. It’s all we could ask for. So why is my heart so funky?
The practice of actively looking for “how the light gets in” this past year wasn’t always easy. The “good” definitely stands out when everything else is crumbling.
The phone call from CHOP felt as though light was literally busting through all the dark, heavy months. Joseph was told his eyes are perfect and I was told I no longer need physiotherapy ON THE SAME DAY. So why? Why? WHY was my heart kind of “blah”? Stacey said it plain and simple, “You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Thank God for honest friends. I was hearing the good news and waiting for the call back to say “On second thought, Mrs. Smithberger…”
That’s when I realized the practice of looking for the light is work; work I have to choose and then do every day. Every single day.
If I don’t look for it, if I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, I’m going to miss out.
If you don’t look for the light, you’re going to miss out.
I’m not talking about looking for the silver lining or the miraculous. No spin. The fact is there’s just a lot of amazing in the ordinary. So every day, I look for the light and then say Thank you.
Like the other day when I noticed a friend, so I put the car in park and we had an impromptu “party” on the sidewalk. I know two of the women, but the other mommas had simply heard our story and pulled me into their hugs to cry with me and celebrate with me. I climbed back in the car, looked up through the sunroof and said Thank you.
Or when I walked into Bank of America to make a deposit. Sweet Ms Iris, doing her job, asked how I was but instead of saying fine; I told her, “We got great news and I’m just getting used to it. God is good.” And she answered, “All the time.” –God is good all the time– in the good, the bad, the boring, the everyday, God is good all the time. Anyways, she told me a little of her story and before long I put up my hand on the plexiglass and she put her hand up to mine and we just cried. Here’s a woman I don’t know, sharing her sadness and her joy and her faith with me. Thank you.
Every time I drop off Joseph at school, my heart swells seeing teachers with their thumbs up for us and their eyes brimmed up with tears for us. Thank you.
When Lily is putting on her “chee-jays” at “bednight,” telling me about yet another Halloween costume idea; I look in her sweet eyes and say Thank you under my breath.
Running around for 17 hours straight with my boys at a soccer tournament. How about that? I was able to get up and go and cheer and sit on a sideline and drive around and chat and laugh and cheer some more. For that 17 hour light marathon, I say Thank you.
Once you get in the groove of looking for the light, you can’t help but want to REFLECT the light! So, the other day, I got a Graul’s cake to celebrate being “normal” (because, truly, what says shiny, happy like buttercream frosting?) And in the moment, to have all 7 of us, circled around that frosted goodness and say what we were grateful for right then… Thank you x7.
1 John 1:5-7 tells us
“God is light… If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with each other.”
I love this verse because it ties in our beautiful light source and binds it to US being TOGETHER in it! We are meant to do life together and we are wired to be drawn to the light. God might not be walking the Earth but He sure does shine through. And it’s in those light-filled moments that I feel God so close. It makes the moments almost sacred to me.
And maybe taking the extra time to soak in the ordinary moments is what makes them extraordinary.
Thank you for being in this with me.