These are the only moments like this that we get together

Sometimes, all of the things my daughter needs from me can feel like a nuisance or a burden. Sometimes, she asks too many questions and I just want some quiet so that I can do my work. Sometimes, I don’t want to listen to Taylor Swift or Blackpink in the car. 

But then I remember that someday, my daughter won’t need me anymore or at least not as often. Someday, she’ll live on her own and won’t be around to ask me questions all of the time. Someday, I’ll be driving in the car by myself missing her and wishing I could have this time back even if it means listening to Taylor Swift or Blackpink on repeat for hours at a time. 

Sometimes I get frustrated with my daughter or impatient with her. I’m only human and I have a limited amount of energy and attention, and sometimes I give so much to others or to my work that I have very little left for my daughter. But then I’m reminded just how fleeting these moments are, and just how precious they are. 

These are the only moments like this that we get together. God willing, there will be more moments together, but these are the only moments like this. And we don’t them back. What we get is what we get. There are no do-overs and there is no rewind button on life. Every single interaction is unique and special, and I can either push them away or embrace them

Someday, my she will ask me for a piggyback ride for the last time. Someday, she will ask me to do her hair, to take her to a school dance, and to put her to bed for the last time. For these reasons, and many more, I pray to treat every time like the most important time. I thank God for my little girl every day and I’m beyond grateful that I get to spend the time with her that I do. I know it will not last forever and that makes me appreciate her even more. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

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A state of non-pain

Is there a word for not being in pain? The state of being healthy and pain-free is often overlooked and under-appreciated. We don’t notice it because it doesn’t hurt. It’s almost as if we need pain in order to pay attention to our bodies. 

When we are hurt, we pay attention. Pain can be unrelenting in this way. It refuses to go unnoticed. We obsess over it. In fact, when we are injured, if we don’t feel our pain, we check back in on it to see if it’s still there. It’s not that we want to feel it. On the contrary, we check in on it because we are hoping it is gone, but checking in on it only perpetuates the pain.  

Peace and comfort, on the other hand, go largely unnoticed. We take them for granted, at least until they are disrupted by pain. Then, we miss our peace. We crave comfort. We yearn for healing. But as soon as our pain is relieved, so are we. We relax and forget it ever existed. We move on with our lives like it never happened. 

We love to forget our pain. While we are in the midst of our suffering, we make all sorts of bargains and promises. We swear that we will change if we only find relief. Our lives will be different if we are given a second chance. Pain makes us liars, but it is not our fault. We don’t mean to forget. It’s just that pain distracts us from the truth of our complacency and our apathy. 

I’m not sure if there is a word for not being in pain, but I am sure that we should appreciate it more. We should be grateful for every moment we are not hurting, celebrate our lack of pain, and rejoice in the freedom it affords us. It’s a luxury that is promised to no one, and it will not last.