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I’m still reflecting on Romans 12:2 today.  However, in addition a Steven Curtis Chapman song called, “One Heartbeat At A Time” from his album, This Moment, came to mind.

Here are the lyrics:

You’re up all night with a screaming baby
You run all day at the speed of life
And every day you feel a little bit less
Like the beautiful woman you are

So you fall into bed when you run out of hours
And you wonder if anything worth doing got done
Oh, maybe you just don’t know
Or maybe you’ve forgotten

You, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time
Making history with every touch and every smile
Oh, you, you may not see it now
But I believe that time will tell
How you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time

With every “I know you can do it”
Every tear that you kiss away
So many little things that seem to go unnoticed
They’re just like the drops of rain over time
They become a river

And you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time
Making history with every touch and every smile
Oh, you, you may not see it now
But I believe that time will tell
How you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time

You’re beautiful
You’re beautiful
How you’re changing the world
You’re changing the world

You, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time
Making history with every touch and every smile
Oh, you, you may not see it now
But I believe that time will tell
How you, you are changing the world
Oh, I believe that you
You are changing the world
One little heartbeat
At a time

And you’re changing the world

I face this truth everyday.  It’s so easy to forget in the moment, when Elle is crying because she can’t reach the toy she’s so determined to grab or when Minnie is refusing to eat her breakfast for the umpteenth time.

Today I’ve gotten a taste, a reminder that each word, each action and reaction has the power to build up my daughters, grow us closer to each other, transform them and me into the people God desires us to be.

And, I was reminded to think like a child.  I don’t especially remember what it was like for me to be a two year old, much less when I was eight months, but I’ve been trying to imagine what it may be like if I was in their place.

They so often seem so unphased by their surroundings, by what I say or do.  It’s easy to think that it doesn’t matter.  At a moment of bad mothering, I was reminded that this just isn’t true.  I lost my temper when Minnie refused to use the potty before her nap and instead carried her and placed her on the toilet instead of leading her to walk there herself.  I was angry.  And she could tell.  “Why are you being so crazy Mommy?”  I’m ashamed to know that she saw me lose control of my anger.  She saw.  She knew.  I’d like to hope that, though, she didn’t make any unusual remarks she also saw how I tried to make her favorite dinner, packaged it in a way that I thought she would like.  I sang her songs to sleep, made sure the humidifier in her room wasn’t too loud so she wouldn’t be scared, gave medicine to help her breathe despite her cold.

There will always be mistakes and failures on my part, but my hope is that with God’s strength and Spirit, transformed with new thinking there won’t be quite so many.

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