Sidewalk Squares and Miles

Went for a walk today.  Sun was shining.  Breeze was blowing.  Air was warm. 

I wanted a good long walk.  So I walked the path to our old house.

As I started I was chewing on a worry.  Meditating on an anxious thing.  A mothering thing.  I was stewing in the what-ifs and the how-comes.  Even so, knowing it was a small thing in the grand scheme of things.

I was almost all the way to our old house, a solid 20 minute brisk walk, when I started to pass by the hospital.  We used to live only a block from the hospital.  From the OB room where I first held my babies you could see our house.  Brian used to joke that he was going to “make me walk” to the hospital when it was time to deliver. 

But these sidewalks, oh we walked here. 

First longing to even have the hope of a child of my own.  Then with tears of loss.  Then with trembling hope of another.  Then finally with my own Reagan Hope, all colicky and pacifier dependent, in the stroller I had so longed for.  Then with tiny little Maddie next to her big sister in a double-wide jogger.  Then waddling with what I knew would be my last baby, trying to process the last weeks of a pregnancy that I knew would be gone too soon and not over soon enough.  Then with little Hunter next to big sister Maddie while Reagan walked or rode a bike. 

I know these sidewalks like the back of my hand. 

Look in front of you, I hear Him nudge with a whisper.

There’s nothing there. 

Exactly.

And it hits me that I am walking and no one is in front of me.  There’s no little one growing within me.  There’s no little one in a snug sweet stroller, blanket tucked in tight.  There’s no kiddos zooming ahead of me on bikes or scooters.  Just me.  Just me with 3 lifetimes of memories trailing behind me.

Yes, you have been faithful, haven’t you?  All those years of praying for just one child.  All those walks with a screaming baby that I was pretty sure would never end.  All those late night walks where I stared up at the window of that one room where I first met all 3 of my children.  Three here with me and one there with You.  There were times I wasn’t sure, but You weren’t looking just one block ahead. 

I was tempted to mourn then.  Tempted to be sad that all those days of stroller walks were no longer before me.  Tempted to cry about kids growing up and going to school and slowly becoming way too cool for Mom.

But when I’m honest I know I’m this weird contradiction - pushing my kids away with one arm, begging them to become more independent and less needy, while at the same time desperately clinging to them with the other, pleading with them to slow down and just stay little a little while longer.

So I put down my worry.  And I picked up celebration.  I walked to our new home, knowing the way ahead held so many more adventures, and my heart overflowing with thankfulness that He sees the miles AND the sidewalk squares in front of me.