Moments

Heaven find me on my knees.

Is there mercy still reserved for me...

In my darkest hour when the wind blows on and on

When senses lower and time is no more

Is there mercy still reserved for me

When every failure gleams

Every clock hour chimes

Moments so frail, withered brittle

Time stills for me and then

Swept away like wind carrying

Hope for renewed passion

Mercy reserved for me, I need.

Just some words floating around tonight, making their way out finally. Sitting here listening to the neighbor's dog bark incessantly at nothing, knowing it must be louder at their house than at mine but yet doesn't seem to bother them too much. Rocking Landon, holding on a little tighter than usual, letting go a little later than usual, crying a few tears over him, listening to him breathe breathe breathe. Motherhood is joyous heartache after joyous heartache. Love so amazing, so divine but so interrupted by the passing of time. Thinking over this day and recapping, savoring, drinking in the precious moments of my life from this day. Ordinary day, but extraordinarily memorable. Engaging in "small talk" that is polite, that is expected, that is pleasant. Wanting to know more, to go beyond the surface and discover why, how... to meaningfully know. Would it be wrong to want 1 full hour of interrupted, bottom of the heart conversation with every single person I meet? To really understand and see through the eyes of another is a beautiful miracle opportunity. Getting low to the floor and seeing through the eyes of my son, the way he views his world. It's a big world, big obstacles. He is brave and he will conquer it in his own way, in his own time and you can find me somewhere nearby whispering, "I knew you could do it!" How will you find me these days? If I'm smiling, I have a good reason to be. If I'm quiet, God is treating my soul. If you find me weak, you've found me honest. If you find me standing up, standing up, standing up for my cause, you've found some remaining passion. If you find me laughing, laugh with me. If you find me somber, pray with me for what hangs a heavy bridle on my back.

The hospital Landon was born at is 30 minutes away from my house. The people we saw come and go from the NICU were plenty. One in particular was staying in a room across the hall from me, a mother of 5. Now, residing in the hospital because her 6th newborn baby had difficulty breathing. She was different. She showed her emotion and wasn't concerned with how it looked to others. I related to her, I felt with her and for her. We were able to talk a few times, and comfort one another in small ways. What I discovered was that up until a year ago, she lived on my street, in a house I pass every single day of my life... 30 minutes away from the hospital we were both in. How... what.. why... when... I don't have the answers. But I have a face in my mind of mother of 6 who lived in that house, loved that house and who knew me for a minute, in a hospital NICU.