It seems as though my entire life, I've been waiting for something. To start school, for Fifth grade graduation, To heal from my allergic reaction, to heal from home-sickness, To lose weight before starting high school, To drive, to earn my car back, to find a boy to think I'm pretty, for my first kiss, to hear him say I Love You, to heal when you decide to move on, to lose weight before college, mission trips, Super Summer, Summer, School to start, to graduate, to make friends, to keep friends, for the concert, To get a new car, to meet Him, to be asked on a date, to be asked the question, for a kiss from Him, for June 11, 2005, to start our family, to find out her gender, to hold her. to conceive, to lose, to conceive, to lose, to conceive my sweet baby boy, to hold him, to conceive, to find out his gender, to hold him, to lose weight, to lose weight, and so it goes. Never content. Is this how God planned it for me? Isn't there more than always discontentment enough to always be waiting for the next chapter. I've missed so much.
I looked at my children today and called them over to me and held them. I stopped and just held them. I wasn't waiting for anything. It was all right there.
