Bibbie

My niece, Bibbie, turned two-years old in December.  I missed her birthday; I missed her.  She shines the light into my life.  Children tend to do that; my nephews, though they’re older now, still shine that same light, as does my older niece, who is in her 20s and is a mom herself.  As with Z, Auz, and Kay, I adore this youngest one – my Bibbie – and when she hugs me, when she comes to sit in my lap, when she she calls me “Rae Rae,” my heart fills until it feels like it’s too big for my chest.  Bibbie colors the world more vibrant, and she is the reason I keep going.

You know I’ve been silent so very long.  My words wouldn’t weave together into a tapestry that held strong.  You see, I’ve have some overwhelming events, and in a life full of things I simply do not understand, in a life full of things I can admit my hand stirred and scooped at least a bit, I’ve recently had something occur that for which responsibility could not be laid at my feet. My right eye has failed – I mean, in simple language, that I am now blind in my right eye due to a stroke in the main retinal artery.

I have cried; my goodness, I have wailed and sobbed, but that has not solved my aching heart, nor has it restored my now shadowed right eye.  My eye is gone, and nothing short of His intervention will bring it back.  I do not understand, and I do not know how to move forward from this; I have wanted to go to sleep and not ever wake.  But, perhaps in this I am a coward, but I cannot end this life He has chosen for me.  Then, last week, my left eye began to fail as well.

Today, I saw my Bibbe girl. I got her up from her nap, changed her diaper, gave her her favorite snack.  I held her close, kissed her, played with her, and, incredibly, I felt my heart begin to knit back together.  You see, watching her, I realized something special, something awe inspiring really. Simply, Bibbie is the happiest child I have ever seen.  She, surrounded by her babysitter, her mother, her grandfather, and me, smiled, laughed, cheered for herself when she did something right.  Watching her, it occurred to me to that she could only feel that expansive joy – contagious joy – because she knew with absolute certainty that she is amazingly, unwaveringly loved.

Being loved – knowing we’re loved – taps into the core of our being.  Into the tap it pours liquid adoration and lights the corners that we are so very afraid will never shine again.  Love, in all its various manifestations, is capable of pushing away the suffocating darkness we (occasionally) aren’t even aware encroach on our souls. Fear threatens the peace He promises, but allowing that love to shine through may be the only thing that restores our relationship with He that loves beyond all understanding, the only thing that restores our ability to move and breathe and dance for Him.

I know He allowed Bibbie into my life.  I know he allowed me to see her today.  He used that precious baby to save my life, and that is enough.  Today that is enough because today He loved me so very much that he allowed me to hold my Bibbie.  Holding her, I felt Him hold me.

Amen.  Again, I say Amen.