Love

Our old computer just quit one day. No warning. It just wouldn't turn on. It wasn't a big deal because my grandma had given us her laptop and most of the time that's what we were using anyway. There is one document on there though that I want, am desperate about. I swear I saved it to a disk when we moved from Montana, but I can't find it. I thought I had emailed it to myself for safety, but I can't find it. I need a data retrieval expert.

This weekend, I moved the computer desk into the mud room in the back of the house. Our mud room is a large room, much too big for a mud room. But it's location, and the giant closet, make it a mud room no matter how we furnish it. It's a good room for a computer. A good room to write in. Big and sunny. Even though I liked working on the couch and even though it amused my friends that we stored the laptop under the couch, I like having the desk here. Flanked on either side of the computer are pictures of the girls- so even as they sleep and I blog in the quiet evening hours, I am reminded of my love for them.

And tonight I am overwhelmed. Maybe it is because I've spent three days at home with both girls, going no where, snuggling, wiping feverish brows, spooning up broths, and watching the normally wiggly little bodies, curled up on the couch, sleeping. When they wake up, rosy- cheeked, matted hair, tendrils of new curls around their face, they are the most beautiful children in the world. I am overwhelmed by the intensity of this love that exists for my children. They are so special and my heart aches when I realize that to most other people, they are just children. And forever I will desire for the world to see how special they are, to see what I see. I desire for them to see what I see, how every detail of who they are was known and created by God for a reason. I have never been so sure of God's hand in creation as I am in my children. How blessed I am to be their mother.

Sometimes, in these moments of overwhelming love, I wish I could capture them because I know my memory will fail, and not just of old age. Already the images, smells, developments of their infanthood exist mostly in what I have recorded in word or image. Those moments of life slip away from my memory like a freshly caught fish. I suppose if I could hang on to all of those memories, it might be too burdensome to move on, to follow Paul in " forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead." Either I would wallow in the past difficulties or yearn for the past pleasantries. But God has given me some skill with words and for month after month for almost five years I captured the intricacies of their developing personalities in words-- Like my posts a few weeks ago about each girl. And currently those writings are lost in that old computer. Maybe I am not meant to have such treasures, but maybe their is a skilled computer dude who can rescue them. Do you know any?