“Deep and wide, deep
and wide…”
Hannah sings in the backseat of the car. It’s a song she learned at
church – one that I actually never learned as a kid – but I know it’s about a
fountain flowing deep and wide, a fountain that never runs dry. It’s a fountain
of love born out of grace, always there to refresh a weary wanderer.
Oh, how I
understand that fountain of love more than ever before, as a parent. A mama’s
love is as deep and wide, as ever-flowing, as longsuffering, and at times, as
painfully beautiful. It’s a love that separation or loss or hurt or anything
could never, ever take away.
It’s a love that I hope she’s learning about as she absorbs
knowledge like a sponge, soaking it all in. I hope I am teaching her enough. I
hope I am everything I need to be for her, at this vital age.
But all I need to do is make sure she knows that my fountain
is always here, ready and waiting when she needs it. She may forget every once
in a while – because, after all, learning is a process. It takes time. It takes
mistakes. It takes patience.
Sometimes we get stuff backwards. We might have something
completely wrong but are so sure that it’s right, simply because it’s what
we’ve told ourselves over and over again in our heads. We keep repeating it
because it’s what we know to be true, what we’ve come to cling to.
But part of the learning process is letting go of the wrong
and clinging to the right.
When she wants a treat, she won’t always ask for ‘snack fruits’.
One day she’ll no longer call it a ‘stump tree’.
She’ll get it right when she asks to play with the ‘paint
fingers’.
That kid amazes me every day – as does her little brother
who’s not so little anymore – and I’m incredibly thankful for them. I don’t
know what I’d do without that deep and wide fountain of love they’ve brought
into my life.
I don’t know what my life would be like without
conversations like these:
*Cough, cough*
“Mama, I have too much energies.”
“I know you have energy. You’re bouncing all over the
place.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m coughin’. Cause I have energies.”
“Ooooh, you mean allergies, honey.”
“Yeah, I got lotsa allergies.”
“Well, you have lots of energy. Energy is what makes you
jump around and run and play. Allergies are what make you sneeze and cough.”
“Yeah, that’s why I
got lotsa allergies. Cause that’s why I’m coughin’.”
*Overemphasized cough*
“I don’t think you have allergies. But I’m certain you have
too much energy.”
And I’m certain she’ll use that energy and those learning
skills all throughout her life – whether she’s facing the planned out,
predictable, and mundane…or the wild, uncharted adventure that twists and turns
far off in the distance.
She’ll get the words right.
She’ll seek the fountain.
It’s all part of the process.
