She shocked us when she bought her ticket from Phoenix to New York while I was still in labor, and traveled across the country to arrive here just hours after the birth. I'm glad she did because I don't know how I could have made it through last week without her.
One afternoon last week, as I cradled my new daughter and tried to memorize the little curves of her face, I contemplated this undertaking called motherhood. Here was a new life that needed nurturing from Mr. Miller and me for the next eighteen or twenty years. Then I looked up and saw my mom on the Internet furiously researching a baby question for me. I thought about her trip. This trip wasn't a vacation, even though she was in a famous vacation destination. Instead, she was passing the hours caring for me in the most basic ways--providing food, a clean home, and even holding me when I cried. I wasn't that different from Evangeline (aside from the fact that I can form complete sentences). So while my mom birthed me over twenty-six years ago, she's still caring for me.
It dawned on me for the first time that mothering isn't simply a season of life; it's a life-long commitment. That fact is both intimidating and exciting. How does one really contemplate much less prepare for a task that enormous in import? By prayer, yes? And by seeking the Lord's wisdom for each day, not worrying about tomorrow? Perhaps, then, by God's grace and in his providence, I may find myself some twenty-plus years from now caring for Evangeline after she gives birth to her first child, just as my mom cared for me this week.
Oma & Evangeline
