I really ought to pay attention in church

Paul pointed out one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen in church today: a woman on the other side of the aisle, signing as we sang "Glory to God in the Highest..." She couldn't hear and she couldn't raise her voice to sing, but she was still praising God with her whole heart, with her whole body, with her soul. And it was more beautiful than hearing the choir or the cantor, or even the man behind me who sang with a clear and in-tune voice, pleasant to hear and unpretentious. Seeing that woman gave me goosebumps and made me think about worship in a completely different way. Thank you for that.

In front of us in church sat a family we know with a toddler about a month older than Little. She's a cutie, I won't lie, but I have never ever seen her smile. Paul and I spent half of church just trying to get her to smile with marginal success. We always take Little to the nursery during church (otherwise I would pay even less attention), and we considered what life would be like if Little didn't smile. Because she does, practically all the time. When she is old and wrinkly, all those wrinkles will be laugh lines. And I hope that because of her, my wrinkles will be too. I wondered, though, what is better in life: to be the one who smiles all the time or the one who is smiled at. If we spent half of church smiling at this little girl in a vain attempt to make her smile, how many other people must do the same thing? Is she surrounded by people smiling at her all the time? I hope so, so that one day she might share smiles too. Little, on the other hand, is the one who is smiling at everyone, all the time. And since she's small and cute and charming, she usually gets them to smile right back at her. It seems like the difference is that there is an exchange. There is more joy, passed around and shared. It's contagious. I don't want a life without her smile.

Then I looked around the church and saw families and wondered about their dynamics. Some couples sat with their children between them, looking straight forward, focused only on what was being said and done on the altar in front of them. Other couples sat together, arms around each other or hands held, children to either side of them, or of course, with no children at all. I wondered if the way they sat is evidence of the way they live their lives. I felt grateful that Paul and I get to enjoy time alone together as a couple as well as time together as a family of three. I cherish the evenings when, after Little goes to bed, we can have a great conversation over dinner, or even simply sit on the couch next to each other watching television and not saying anything at all. Just being. Do other couples let their children (literally and figuratively) get between them? I love Little. A lot. But I love Paul a lot too. I live for both of them. My life would be unbearable without either of them. Does everyone feel that way about their spouses and children? I hope so. I love those days when I just feel so full of love for them that it overflows and I don't know what to do with it aside from hug them tight and write down all my mushy lovey feelings.

We had a lovely conversation about Harry Potter as we ate lunch today. Just the two of us, Little in bed for her nap. We also chatted about the future earlier today, while Baby Einstein was on the television. There was a shot of a windmill in the Netherlands, and Paul said he'd like to go there one day. I said we should take a month-long trek through Europe, and he said, sure, once we are fifty and don't have to pay Little's bills. My mind traveled through time, and as I thought about it, I noticed that there weren't any other children in our lives aside from Little, and I felt completely ok with that. Of course I don't know what the future holds, but I am content and satisfied with what I have. Many people I know with kids around Little's age are already talking about (or pregnant with) their next child, and I feel like I'm on such a different planet from them sometimes, since I don't feel that same desire as they do in my heart of hearts. Not even if something were to happen to Little... I cannot fathom how the mother in My Sister's Keeper could think to have a baby to save her other child. Then again, I don't have more than one child. Nor do I have a sister. Nor do I have a sick child, praise God. Nevertheless, I find it hard to not judge such a terrible action and decision. The cost is too great (and I'm not talking money here). And then, in church, I convicted myself a little. As I watched the deaf woman sign so beautifully I thought, "If our second child is deaf, I will dive headfirst into learning and teaching this child (and Little) sign language." I thought of all the trials parents of special needs kids go through. And then I thought of Little and decided I would never let her be overshadowed by a sibling. I would never take the attention and love I have for her and give it to a second child. They say that when your family grows, so does the love, and I believe it. I also believe that the dynamic changes. And sure, change can be a good thing, but I don't want to take anything away from Little that she deserves.

At any rate, I know life will be exactly the way it is meant to be and it will be what I make of it, so no more of these nonsensical thoughts. I really should listen more closely in church, for God does have great plans for us.