“When one door closes, another opens, but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.” Alexander Graham Bell

I had the most curious thing happen yesterday. Still not quite sure where it came from or what prompted it; perhaps a culmination of things. But, it seemed to come on as nothing more than a mere consideration and before I knew it, my heart was gripped in a way I hadn’t anticipated. Gripped by the ever powerful… ‘What if’.

Heading now into my 39th year, I was struck with the realization that, although most days I feel the same as I did in college (albeit a few pounds heavier and a good bit creakier)… the door is quickly closing on the possibility of becoming ‘Mom’.

Like I said… “Where’d that come from?!”

I’ve never been a girl who had a ‘ticking clock’, as they say. I enjoy children. And have often joked that the best thing about having a niece and nephew is the fact that I can love them as my own, but still give them back at the end of the day.

But, I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t cross my mind to wonder what mine would be like. Or that I’ve never wished that Savannah and Emery had some cousins on our side to play with and grow older with. I have. But, it’s always been a fleeting thought at most.

So, why the sudden pang? image

This is the first time I had ever actually sensed that door closing on me. The door of possibility. The door of options. Driven by the hands of time. And honestly, I didn’t even think I really cared about what may lie behind that door. But, funny how once it starts closing on you, how much more you appreciate all that it could contain.

But, I know that in such things, I am to trust that His ways are higher and better. And that He has a good and perfect plan for my life.
And I know that He has a sense of humor, too.

The very same day that all of this knocked me back a step, I had my usual volunteer night with the Celebrate Recovery kids at church. Only this night, at the last minute, they needed me in the Baby Barn, with the really little ones. The screaming their heads off, drooling little puddles at their feet, filling dirty diapers kind. As if to gently remind me of all that lies behind that door would entail.

And perhaps He does know better than me after all.

Published in: on May 17, 2013 at 9:34 pm  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. Jessica,

    Your blog does not have a way in which readers can contact you, so I have no choice but to do so via comment (I know, I know, breach of blog etiquette). Would you be so kind as to drop me an email?

    truthtakestime97 at gmail

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