My parents tragically lost a friend yesterday. Despite it being a festive and relaxing week full of birthday celebrations for both Donovan and me, it came to a screeching halt with the news. His death simply reminded me that life can end confusingly and without warning; and that living life with abundance is about moving through the garbage to (somehow) find peace on the other side.
While giving Noemi her bottle tonight before putting her to bed I watched her peacefully breathe in and out in perfect rhythm. She looked so little to me—her black pupils swallowed up by her big brown iris' stared back at me. She seemed so vulnerable—I felt so vulnerable. I was reminded that she has experienced terrible tragedy at such a young age and that I cannot possibly protect her from experiencing more. I won’t be able to keep her safe from ugly, traumatic death and I won’t always be able to explain the crap of life— loneliness, pain, poverty, AIDS and the millions of orphans on this planet. But my hope for her is that she will grow to be strong enough to ask questions and courageous enough to challenge the answers when they don’t add up. I pray that she might have enough chutzpah and faith to stare her own tragedy square in the eye and embrace it as her story.
This is my prayer for you, my sweet yittle bug—that you will love boldly through this fragile life while walking humbly with your maker. Walk with your maker, my dear, and know that your life is full of brilliant love.
Amen.
