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The experience of being

Today, as I sat in a darkened hospital room, listening to Shelbie keep the rhythm of hospital life with her quiet, sleepy breaths, I thought about life.

My life.  The big life I find myself living every day.  And though I find it hard to be gentle and forgiving of the times I am weak in my faith and overcome with fear...boy, I've experienced it all; every feeling you can imagine this wild life can toss up and even feelings that words have yet to describe.   If I were to die tonight, I would have no regrets...Whatever the world and those around deem me to be, whatever judgments they want to measure me against, it makes no difference.  I did my level best.

I have experienced the depths of heartache and grief but deeper still a joy that can transcend even the most chaotic of days.

I have experienced what it's like to feel everything at once and nothing at all.

I have experienced connection and empathy.

I have experienced great and suffocating loneliness.

I have experienced God's love and the Devil's lies.

Most of all...what I experience every day, is a fierce love for my kids I didn't know was possible.  I experience every day, a subtle angst that I may lose them at any moment.  It's in these moments, I hang on for dear life, maybe too tight.  I breathe in their very being and existence with an eager expectation that it will never escape the moment, hoping to exhale added years of good health.

Everyday, I see the love of God, leading this tired mom along, sending Heavenly postcards and directions and Angels and happenstance.  Miracles.

And this is what makes the experience of being, whatever that is in the moment, worth all the sleepless nights, tear soaked pillows, restless dreams, walks with grief...worth it in the end.

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