Being Clear About Things That Matter Most

I saw her just a few days ago.

She’s a cheeky 11 year old now.
Back then, she was threee.
And I remember the day so clearly.

I remember gazing at her, as her bright, golden hair shimmered, bounced and flew around her. Her face excited and earnest and innocent.

“Look, I can do this!” she squealed. And she could.

She could almost skip. And she could jump with both feet; and with all her energy.
She wanted me to join her and show her how. So she handed me the rope.

Yet, brief days before, she had lain lifeless, unbreathing, unmoving.
Under water.
In the pool.
For untold minutes.

“I got lost in the water, Mummy.” she called, as we played.

Yes, you did.
Then your Mummy found you, and – sobbing – lifted you up.
And your Daddy breathed into you the breath of life.

And you lived again.

Now, here you were, out of hospital. Playing with your unusually quiet siblings. Letting me join in. Chuckling and jumping and calling.

Then, I looked at your besotted Daddy. And we both laughed and grinned with the sheer joy of you.

I’ve watched that young father over the passing years. There are so many things he could have done, with his raw intelligence.

Oh, he’s doing pretty well.
But he wouldn’t swap any of those more glamorous things for this greatest treasure.
His family.
His gutsy, beautiful, energetic wife. His four busy, exhausting, secure children.

He knows that he’ll gain the things of comfort and luxury later.
Right now… we – observing him - know that he holds an enviable balance in life.

I see her regularly. 11 years old, and still almost guileless. Breathlessly, vivaciously alive.
Seeing her, causes me to reflect on how precious and tenuous this life is.
So very, very fleeting.

In the midst of my striving and stressing… my disappointments and victories…my getting and gaining… I remind myself…

“Things That Matter Most Must Never Be At The Mercy of Things That Matter Least.”