“We serve a God who does way past your way past.” Priscilla Shirer
She sobs a puddle in my arms, and I find my own tears mixing in with hers.
“Mama, sometimes I just want to be able to do the one thing I can’t do.”
Haven’t we all felt this way?
It’s been 8 months since Faith’s surgery correcting her broken neck, and we rejoice the surgery was a complete success. She is able to participate in miles more than we were told would be possible. But as far as those miles take her, she can never resume her first love: gymnastics.
Most days, she plays contentedly with pretty cartwheels and whatnot. But from time to time the itch to push the limits of what is physically wise surfaces, so I furrow my brows and break out the dreaded no. Her two closest friends are knee-deep in gymnastics, therefore reminders and conversation surrounding the sport lean close. And while Faith generally doesn’t mind this and has made leaping strides in accepting she can’t further participate in gymnastics herself, she misses it.
She pulls away from my arms, watery doe eyes looking straight at me. She shakes her head and sighs,
“Nothin’ is as fun as gymnastics.”
I tell her it’s okay to feel that way. Because there ain’t nothin’ fun about dreams dying or loves leaving.
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