a bedtime revelation

a revelation hit me while turning down the bed last night.

well, i wouldn't quite call it a revelation as much as a realization.

in the middle of untucking the sheets and pulling back the blankets, i turned to robert and said, "think about the years between ages 10 and 20, and how long of a span that seems--how many milestones and changes you go through. now think about 20 to 30. we're almost halfway there. it doesn't feel nearly as long, does it?"

i thought about the decade encapsulating my teenage years like an old movie playing backward. in one scene, my first birthday in the double digits. what a spectacle we made out of that. in the next, a sequence of firsts--first car, first job, first date, first kiss, first love, first graduation. first time leaving home. it seemed that from 10 to 20, my life was composed of so many gigantic milestones. i sat down on the edge of the bed and pondered my twenties. of course there are big steps. but not as frequent as my younger years. from now on, it seems as though the milestones will be few and far between. marriage. jobs. pets. children.

but like the grapes i got last night at the grocery store, these milestones are also big. and sweet. they are precious and monumental. i believe God throws so many epochs at us when we're younger because in reality, those periods are just preparing us for now. i'm so glad that present life moves at a slower pace than before. i can savor these special moments now because i appreciate them more. i turned to robert and told him what i was thinking. without missing a beat, he said, nothing is static. everything is always changing. years from now, we'll look back on this time, just you and me and our little life, and we'll think about all the big changes that happened, though we didn't recognize them as big at the time.

so maybe life now isn't a chain of huge steps. maybe, just maybe, it's the simple comfort of relishing the tiny victories. the day pablo learned his first trick. the birthday i got my front porch swing. the first day i discovered i could make cheesecake in the crockpot.

it's the little things now, more than ever, that i'm learning to appreciate. and it's sweet to know that robert--who was there for my first kiss at 16--is cherishing these new moments too. and right now, there's a mug of spiced cider warming my hands, the sunshine peeking through half-open blinds, and a heater running at my feet and it is enough. in fact, it is beautiful.

pacific coast highway--october 2010