Filed under: Life in Illini
Little Ian and littler Ibby
One good thing about living in a land of seasons is that memory gives you a clearer perspective on things. It’s been almost a year since we moved here, but I remember the heat of summer (although it didn’t seem that hot then as we were fresh out of Singapore), the chill of watermelon, and giving thanks for my wide-brimmed hat as if it were yesterday. I also remember how greatly things have changed. Last year, Ian was barely putting two words together; now he strings whole sentences. Last summer, we were pretty much friendless; now we have friends. And last July, we prayed for another child; now we are four.
In my undeniably mundane life, the big things are always made up of the little things. I see how God has been with us every step of the way. I know He planned that chance meeting at a church camp lunch that linked us to all the good people here, and I cannot count the number of Thank You Jesusus I must have said in the course of each day. I hope I never forget how God was always there when I prayed, incessantly it seemed, during the early weeks after Ibby was born. Even for a second-time mom, things were hard then. Each time I laid my head on my blessed pillow was an occassion of joy.
Today, I celebrate these little mercies. I am grateful that I have a new day to spend with my children each morning, and for the partnership of marriage. I am happiest at 6 pm, when my husband walks through the door after a day at school. I am relieved that my little girl is feeding and sleeping well (she drinks a lot, but that’s better than not drinking yah!). I rejoice that she smiled at me for the first time today, and that she is learning ways of communication other than crying. I say a silent hallelujah that both my children are napping now (and I have the time to write this!). And I thank God from the bottom of my heart that it is Friday today.
I am also heartened to see that Ian seems better adjusted to life with Baby Sister, and he is more like his usual sweet, cheerful self again. To me, the hardest part about having another kid is neither the pregnancy, the labor and delivery, the constant feeding, nor the lack of sleep even, but helping the older one adapt. Much as I try to protect Ian and his world, I pray that God will teach his child’s heart understanding and love.
I know all this will pass. One day, Ibby will sleep through the night. And one day, my two children will play and bicker together. Until then, until things get easier, and in the years after, God willing, I pray that His presence will grace each little moment, and be the biggest joy of my heart.
