Kiss Your Miracle

The other day Adam and I decided to take Sky to the beach, which is a short walk down the road from my parents’ house in Michigan. The sun was about to set and the beach was windy, chilly, and deserted. Sky loved it. She jumped around and clapped her hands, smiling and laughing at everything. I’d taken a few pictures of her and of the sun sparkling through the clouds on the water when I turned to Adam and said, “Hey, we should take a belly photo. I’m almost 23 weeks along and we haven’t taken any yet.” When I was pregnant with Sky, we took pictures of my growing belly every other week, but with everything happening in my family we just hadn’t gotten around to it this time. We took some more photos and played in the sand a little longer. When we got back to my parents’ house, Sky’s cheeks and hands were cold, but she was still smiling.

We walked into the living room and found my parents sitting quietly with Pastor and Mrs. Lutzer. They had pulled their chairs up close to my dad, and Pastor Lutzer had his Bible open. He gave us a quick smile and then said, “We’re about to read some scripture and pray.” So we scooped up our noisy toddler and headed for the other room.

Many things have been written about the contrast between sickness and health, youth and age, life and death. I don’t know that I have anything original to add. But I have to at least mention it because right now it’s happening in my life. It’s strange to look at my dad and know that cancer is hiding inside his body while at the same time our baby boy is squirming and growing inside mine. I suppose it’s a cliché, but I can’t help feeling more aware than ever that life is fragile and temporary, no matter how hard we try to convince ourselves that it’s not.

Lord, make me a person who lives in gratitude for each day and each person in my life.