I always prayed for our home to be filled with children… since I can remember, actually. Even before My Philip swept me away at the young age of 23, I always dreamed of having a large family… say something like five or six littles running around. Disclaimer: I am pretty okay without that many running around at this point in time. Ha!
Unfortunately, up to this point, we have not been able to have natural children. There are many many details, and ups and downs to this story. I’ll probably save that part for another day, but the Lord has opened the door wide to adoption and currently, the door to fostering— all of this being a HUGE promise fulfilled. The thing is, sometimes, I find myself forgetting. I forget the beginning. I get wrapped up in the day to day and forget my heart’s prayer so long ago. Well, I guess I don’t forget but what I do forget to do many times is reflect, if that makes any sense.
Then I am reminded of all the little things. Take this week, for example. I found these little dinosaurs strewn all over the sun-room floor one morning, carefully placed there I am sure. It hit me though. It was a point of reflection for me. It wasn’t just another mess I had to clean up. It was so much more. These little dinos represent life and color and noise. They represent giggles, mischief, and a beautiful chaos that comes from little people that actually live here. It may sound mundane to some, but oh, the depth!
So, of course, I bent down carefully, focusing my phone on these plastic friends. I snapped this picture to remind me of what my heart always imagined so long ago. Sort of a memorial stone, I guess. One I can go back to time and time again as I sit to thank Him.
PS. I’ll especially thank Him for the headless trolls, chewed up army men, and Lego pieces that are actually real life lethal weapons awaiting its next victim. That, my friends, deserves a whole other level of thanksgiving.
What’s your promise fulfilled? The one that seems to escape your thoughts frequently with the noise around you? I challenge you to sit a while, frothy-coffee in hand, and count them. You will probably find out quickly that you can’t actually count them. The list is long. He is good. I will not stop saying it. His goodness knows no bounds.
“He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted."