I have had the pleasure of having some pretty good seats in my life: court side at a couple of Magic games, a hotel room balcony overlooking the Swiss Alps, the rim of the Grand Canyon, standing on top of the world's largest (seated) Buddha in China.
Not to brag, but I've had some pretty awesome experiences. But nothing compares to the seat I find myself in today. The seat lately has been less "adventurous" from an outsiders perspective and it has certainly been different: humble, messy, loud, frustrating, exhausting, cuddly, sweet, scary, painful, precious, honest, and vulnerable.
I have a front row seat to life - to watching two little babies grow into little girls who will one day be young women. And, I'm told, it will happen quickly.
Recently a Facebook memory popped up from one year ago. It was a picture of my youngest who was just a week old, sleeping on my chest with the caption, "I have the best seat in the house."
Boy is that true.
As Christmas approaches (next week!!), I have a new appreciation for the Holiday; not just because I have an excited toddler, but because I see it differently as a mom than I did before.
For obvious reasons, the light always shines on the Baby Jesus in the Nativity scenes.
He is Emmanuel.
Here with us.
But sometimes I can't keep my eyes off Mary. As a young mom I find myself thinking about her. She was much younger than I am, and yet much more faithful and much braver.
I can't help but ask myself, did she stare at His chest while He slept to make sure He was still breathing? Did she run her fingertips over the edges of His eyelashes? Did she slide her finger into His tiny fist just to feel Him squeeze? Did she wipe milk from His face?
And as she stood at His feet when He suffered and died, did she still watch for His chest to rise? As they wrapped Him in burial clothes did she run her fingertips over the edges of His eyelashes? Did she slide her fingers in to His open palms hoping to feel Him squeeze? Did she wipe the blood from His face?
She had the best seat in the house at the arrival of the King of Kings. And, painfully, she was front row at the death of the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world - her Savior and her Son.
She was Mom.
She corrected, she instructed, she loved, she probably got frustrated, surely she threw her hands up in the air in exasperation with her brood (Jesus wasn't her only), and, no doubt, things got messy sometimes.
I am a Mom too. I correct, I instruct, I love, I definitely get frustrated, I throw my hands in the air, and things are usually messy.
Life is still adventurous, it's just different now. And I still have some pretty awesome seats.
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