tiny hands; big hopes

Yesterday was a really good day. The kind I haven’t had for a while. For one simple reason. My family. In this instance, Gavin. He’s not even two yet, and while he is an affectionate child and very sweet, his independence has grown so much. It’s fun to see, fun to see him discover the world and grow in his confidence. However, it isn’t as frequent that he falls asleep in your arms. Before I left my folks’ house yesterday, I held him as he had his nightly bottle, humming Disney songs (Cinderella, Dumbo, and Lady & the Tramp have three of the best lullabies). He fell asleep, his head pressed against my chest, one tiny hand holding the ear of his stuffed monkey he got at the zoo earlier in the day, his other laying on top of mine. Truly, those moments are singular in their ability to make everything else evaporate. There is nothing more important in that moment, no pain that can take away the peace, no worry that can steal the serenity. I know more of God’s love in that instant than in any other area of life.
I pray I have the blessing of having my own children one day. I can’t believe I’d be able to love than any more than I do Gavin. Even though he isn’t, he feels like mine. Love and life are anguish, but they are also never-ending.

It may just have been a sentimental moment or wishful thinking—or maybe it was a true moment of clarity and providence (I hope)—but, yesterday, as I submitted a query for Submerging to Daniel Lazar, agent, I have this overwhelming sense of peace. It was as if, when I hit send, I was finished. That I’d just contacted the person that is going to say yes. It was strange. In fact, in respect to that feeling, I stopped for the day. I didn’t do more research or try to find others to submit my manuscripts. Don’t get me wrong. I’m going back to the search today, as I’ve learned all to well that it takes two, but I do have my hopes up.