The Turning

Our old leather scrapbook, scuffed with wear and use, sat open in my lap.  The pictures looked up at me like tear drop puddles of heartfelt memories.   Had it really been that long ago that my twin baby girls had been born?

I looked fondly at the pictures of their birth and their time in the NICU.  They were no bigger than their father’s hand as we gently placed them in their car seats.  Two little peanuts, safe and secure for their first ride home.  I remembered the next picture, very well.  I stood holding them both in my arms before we carried them inside our home.  They were so light and so very delicate. 

But, then, as I looked at the pictures, it seemed as if the pages in the scrapbook began turning on their own.  Startled, I watched as the girls grew and changed.  Their first step, first cake, first friends, first bike… first day of school.

It came too fast.  All of it.  I remember the trepidation as we walked through the main school doors.  One on either side of me, they held my hand so tightly; I almost had to tell them to let go.  But, one look at the fear in their eyes, my mouth closed while my stomach began to do somersaults.

Do I have to say goodbye?  I was just starting to get to know you.

Two little girls then walked hand in hand into the school room and sat down in their seats.  Looking at their mother behind the camera, their eyes seemed to say “Mommy can we come home with you?”

Never will I forget that day, that look.  Could it have been any different?

The pages again blow rapidly like an unforeseen hand is pushing time forward.  Suddenly, it stops.

The page lies open on another landmark in my little girl’s lives.  My eyes fill with tears as I look at the picture of my girls, dressed in black, at the gravesite of their grandfather.  If only we spent more time with him.  My father was a wealth of knowledge about everything, about nothing.

The girls were already in 5^th grade.  So busy with school and activities, we never made time, we never had time.

Again, the pages turned, this time they turned so slowly.  It was as if the scrapbook knew I needed to prepare myself for the next pictures, memories.

8^th grade graduation passed by, one of my girls had braces, first boy/girl dance, the big chili cook-off; braces came off, our week in Hawaii, friends, birthdays...  As each event marched by, I had the sense that I was losing the battle between my girls and the world.  Did I even know my little girls at that age?  I tried and tried to break through, but it seemed as if life always got in the way of making time to have a good relationship with my daughters.

And then, the blank page appeared.  Today, we will fill this page with pictures.  Graduation balloons are in abundance in our living room.  Upstairs, you can hear the hair dryers duel as my daughters prepare for their ceremony. 

And here, I sit.  In my new purple dress, with my tear stained face, I stare down at the blank pages that will only be a memory by tomorrow.

What have I done?  My sweet babies are graduating from high school today.  I am left with a distinct sadness that underscores my proud thoughts towards my daughters.  What if I could have changed something?  What if I could turn back time?  What if I could give my life more fully to my daughters and give my daughters more fully to the Lord?

The scrapbook began to wildly turn pages, back in time… It surprised me with quick movements and I held my hands up as if in surrender.  Yes, surrender.  I surrender, Lord; I surrender my girls to you.  I surrender my plans and hopes and dreams.  Help us to replace them with your future, your vision for our lives.

The wind from the turning of the pages died down and the scrapbook stopped moving.  Then, I saw the picture.  It was the turning.

I was just getting to know you.  I ran my fingertips down the edge of the photo.  First day of school, I remember the fight within me.  The girls with their longing looks, this is where the difference can be made.  The Lord created me to be your mother, your teacher.

Violently, I sat up in bed, sweat soaked, heart pounding.  I looked around the room.  The dim red light of the clock stated that it was 3 a.m.  What an awful dream.

And then, I saw it.  The square present, lying wrapped on our dresser.  I turned the lamp on low, so as not to disturb my sleeping husband.  The little note on the package simply said, “For I know the plans I have for you”, declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”  Jeremiah 29:11.  NIV

I sat down on the rocking chair that was placed beside the bed and ran my hand absentmindedly over the curve of my stomach.  Then, while softly humming an old hymn, I opened the gift.  I saw the clean, new brown leather shining out from beneath the pink baby wrapping paper.  It was the scrapbook from my dreams. 

The peace of the Lord filled my heart as I placed the scrapbook back on the dresser and turned off the light to slip into bed next to my warm husband.   In the end, living our life to honor the Lord is all that matters. 

And with that thought, I lay silently in the dark smiling. I placed my hand on my belly and felt my twin girls wriggle inside.  “I can’t wait to start our life together”.