Baby steps

My wee one took her first steps last weekend.  (And she did it in front of her grandparents, no less.)

Yes, she’s only ten months old. She adds a few more steps to her pattern each day.

I think that each of my children is wonderful and lovely and brilliant.  But I’ve never had a child who pushes like this one does, who yearns to move on and excel.

She’s seen a good too many “walkers” around this house to stop.

I find that watching her strive pushes me.

Matt and I have been on a ride lately that I can’t begin to describe.  It all revolves around decisions: whether to hang back or push ahead.

I feel like I am walking in miracles every day.  I am amazed at the constant blessings, the undeserved mercy, the countless miracles.

We’re at a jumping-off place in our lives right now.  I feel a simultaneous butterflies-in-the-stomach (as though at the top of a roller coaster), as well as a deep peace of knowing that our lives are guided by Someone much higher.

So though my steps may be halting, I’ve seen a good too many miracles to stop.

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