Stay with Me

My name is Esther, and I am a TV show junkie. I’m one of those individuals who dives all in into some television shows, even though I know “it is just a show”. When the storylines are captivating and I can have an entire conversation with a friend or family member about it and our dialogue continues for much too long for a situation that truly does not have a bearing on our lives, it makes me wonder…is MY life that insignificant or lacking? Do I value my life, my situation less than I do these television shows and their characters? Or, is it a method of escapism?

I’m not sure, but I do know that when a baby survives birth even after its mother has died, and his father is in recovery during this entire time on one of my shows, I am sad. I know that when a woman is a dedicated, long-suffering caretaker and wife and her husband declares he no longer loves her after twenty years of marriage, I am enraged. I know that when a couple is told that they will never conceive a child and become at peace with it and find out several years later that she is pregnant, I almost do a happy dance.

And then, in my reality, I find I am less moved by other’s pains and struggles. I take it less personal. Unless I know the individual firsthand, I tend to be unfazed. Isn’t that a shame? I think so.

Then, I have these little beings, these little humans who remind me every day that although an extension of me, I still have SO much to learn. Their prayers are often long and heartfelt, for no other reason than that they want to lift up a hurting soul to the Lord. They want a child who “has no mommy or daddy” to have a nice, new toy, so they decide to give up one of their Christmas or birthday gifts, in order to put a smile on another child’s face. They offer up hugs when they see I’m saddened or distressed. They ask what’s wrong, even when the other party has no interest in responding to a little child and would rather be left alone to stew over some issue or mishap. Someone gets hurt or is in pain, and they run to the individual’s aid or offer to pray for them, while I worry about the germs.

So, what’s wrong with me? Where is that innocence and love for others I had? Why is my focus now so narrow? I wonder, when they grow up, will they also recoil and allow life’s problems and all the negative news stories to somehow desensitize them? My hope and prayer is that they remain optimists, see the best in others, and “love all the people in the whole wide world,” as my younger son says in his prayer almost every night.

Although I often attempt to put on a front like I have it all together, I’m often a mess inside. These little treasures God gave me are teaching me so much about life, what’s important, and how to embrace moments. I’m not a fan of change, and anyone who knows me is well aware of that. However, as I help mold these jewels I’ve been given, I am trusting that their shine continues to rub off on me as I polish them and prepare them for the world that may sometimes tarnish them or put its sticky hands on them. I pray with all my heart, that they will stay with me, or at least true to who they are wherever they go, as jewels that sparkle.