Wasted Time

The other day I was thinking about those long years of waiting and praying for a child and how I always felt we were in limbo, believing our life together would not really start until we were given a baby. That we were somehow falling further and further behind in the growing-up journey as we watched all our friends have their first, second and sometimes third child and we were just our usual selves. I realize now how utterly absurd that was of me.

I wish I would have had the depth to know "life" had started for us and was racing along at a nice little clip while I was busy allowing myself to be distracted by some pain over which I had no real control. Wasted, wasted time. Hours that could have been better spent in gratitude for what we had. Days and weeks lived in such a way that the world around me would have seen that I believed my life was just right. No perfect, but a life in which I was gloriously content. I was not gloriously content. Not even close.

This is not supposed to be a woulda, coulda, shoulda post. It's just hard when the realization hits that one's heart was not where it should have been and it was like that for a big chunk of time.

Here's to self-reflection...