When You Can't Be There...

Another day has gone by, and as evening comes, I am left looking back at the different things that happened during the day. It has been a hard day with three little ones. One of the hardest things is to watch two very active little boys while sitting down and nursing a baby, thinking 'This is it. He will crack his head, and I won't be able to stop it because I can't just drop the baby in my arms'.

But I don't want to relive it all; it was pretty draining the first time. So, I start thinking about all the things that did not happen during the day. That phone call I didn't make. The stroll around the neighborhood I never got around to. I think specifically about the places I did not make it to today. Things that I didn't partake in. I have missed some things, some really important things. A couple of days after baby girl was born, our beloved nanny, Yudi, lost her mom to a long battle with cancer. For the last year and a half, she has come every day to help me watch my kiddos in the morning while I work, and she has become my dear friend. And I couldn't be with her for the wake or burial of her mother. Not being there was hard, specially because it is a pain I myself have gone through.

As I took some time today to check emails and Facebook, I also saw the different things that would be part of my daily routine, and well, I felt left-out. I saw pictures of the work team that's in Panama right now. I wish I could be there. I wish at least that I could be constantly checking on how the team is doing. I saw pictures of the work teams at Pico, and I was disappointed knowing that this spring we won't be hosting anyone for dinner at our house. I like to be where the action is happening. Right now, if I may be honest, doing puzzles, and reading the same book again, playing Go Fish, and changing my shirt (again) after yet another spit up don't feel like being or going anywhere. In a futile attempt to feel like I had somewhere to be, somewhere to do, I filled out my dry erase calendar for the next four weeks: Palm Sunday. Easter. My Birthday. Pretty booked.

As I do dishes after dinner, I remember what I read this morning. The story of Lazarus' death. And I see it from a perspective I had never seen it before. Jesus also wasn't there when it happened! Jesus missed his friend's death! He missed the burial. He wasn't there on time to heal him or help out with anything at first. The story doesn't even tell us what He did during those days. The only insight we are given is that Jesus was with the disciples, and He also knew that the reason for these events was for God, for the Son to be glorified. And at the end of the story, we are all left like the crowd, totally perplexed by His divinity and His humanity so vividly displayed.

And so, I look at myself during this season. I may not be able to be in certain places or events. But I am with those I need to be with. And through me being with these little folks I can still bring Glory to God. Christ can be glorified while I am with my children, and as I show them how to believe in Him and follow Him.