“The believer does not use God's power; God's power uses him.” *

In the last week or so I reconnected with someone who is very dear to me. Her family and the tragic loss they endured 20 years ago made a lasting impression. My perspective on motherhood and the gift of children has been somewhat shaped by this person and the loss she (and the world) endured. If I ever seem to be an overzealous or bragging parent via this blog, it's because I learned early that I can't take anything for granted. God is using this person to help me with issues I didn't fully realize I have. (Or perhaps I wouldn't accept that I have.) The reconnection has brought incredible happiness and some peace about certain unresolved things in my life. I've cried lots of tears, but happy tears.

Earlier this week, after reading a second piece of correspondence from this dear blessing, I went to get Vanessa up from her nap. I was trying to go about things as normal. Vanessa wanted to play in her room and ordered me to sit in the chair while she did so. I happily followed. While Vanessa played, I began to think about the reconnection, all the gaps coming together, and God's hand in it all. At one point Vanessa came over to engage me in something she was doing. She stopped and stared into my eyes. Tears ran down my cheek. (I began to cry because of how extremely grateful I am for her and her health.) She noticed the tear and said "Uh-oh . . . Mommy, water?" I told her they were tears. She asked, "Mommy sad? Mommy hurt?" I replied, "No, Mommy is happy. Sometimes we cry because we're happy."

Then I saw an element of me in Vanessa -- she had to find a way to make me laugh and smile. (I want to fix people's hurts, although I'm powerless to do so.) Although I didn't realize at first what she was doing, Vanessa held up her finger and said she would be right back . . .

She came back with a pair of (clean) little girl undies on her head. I laughed and cried hard. Again, she said she would be right back. When she came back again, she was holding another pair and asked that I put them on my head. Again, I laughed and cried harder and harder, and happily obliged. Once again she said she would be right back. She came back this last time with a pair for Daddy, but I had to tell her that Daddy was at work.

(Vanessa kept the undies on long enough till we made it downstairs to take a picture.)

*Quote by Kenneth Wuest.