Next weekend, I will celebrate two of life's greatest joys. My eighth baby--the child of my forties--will turn one, and my first baby--the child of my twenties--will turn sweet sixteen.
This time last year, Agnes was praying our new baby would share a birthday with her. Jude was a bit late for that, but he was born on the fifteen-year anniversary of the day we brought her home from the hospital, so that certainly counts for something.
Years ago, I was the twenty-six year old mother of an only child. As pleasant as those days were, and as much as I sometimes long to return to them (perhaps to relive just one blessed afternoon), I would not trade them for the here and now.
Time, it has taken me years, but I finally figured out that you are not the enemy, but a friend--a friend who is not "then" or "someday," but always "now." And "now" is God's greatest gift to us.