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Of Sneakers and Trees


I was about to begin my 7th-grade year. Normally, I loved back-to-school shopping. I loved the smell of fresh crayons and pencils. I loved choosing my binders and notebooks and labeling, sorting, and organizing everything neatly into my backpack. But this would be the first year I remember also being excited about what I would be wearing to school on that first day. I was really looking forward to seeing the friends I had gotten to know the year before. To a 12-year-old girl, friends are everything. Fitting in with those friends is everything. So I had to be wearing the right clothes. My mom instinctively knew this and together we had picked out a pair of Reebok sneakers for me from a mail-order catalog. It was the first time I had ever been able to choose my own sneakers and have them be a name brand. I was ecstatic. 

A few days after my mom had put in the order she got a call that made my heart sink--they were out of stock of her sneaker and wanted to know if she wanted to order something else or refund her money. Otherwise, it would be a couple of weeks before they could get another shipment in. A couple of weeks?! I didn't have that kind of time! School would be starting in just a few days! I couldn't show up to 7th grade with my fresh clothes and old sneakers! 

I wondered if I could just fake being sick the whole first week of school.  I imagined myself walking into class and being the laughingstock of everyone. My life was over!

The day before school started, a box arrived. My mom had a home business and got lots of deliveries, so I didn't think much of it. But then she called my name in a slightly amused tone and handed me the box. My heart stopped. I ripped open the box and there was another one inside. In big, beautiful letters on the lid, I read the word Reebok. I started screaming--the kind of ear-splitting, high-pitched, drawn-out screaming only 12-year-old girls can make--and I started jumping up and down yelling, "They're here! They're here!" 

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but desire fulfilled is a tree of life.

That moment makes me chuckle now, but it's also proven to be a valuable lesson. How many times have I let myself be glad for a desire fulfilled in my life? How often do I just go from moment to moment and fail to celebrate what I have?

Everything in my life at this moment was once something I only dreamed of--or couldn't even dream of! This past weekend, I looked through some of our pictures from our wedding day. So many things we had dreamed about then are coming to fulfillment now. The big things, like our children and our business our obvious, but there are so many smaller things. For me personally, being able to stay at home and homeschool and work on our business is something I couldn't have dreamed I'd be doing, and yet it is fuel to my soul; it's exactly where I want to be. I also have some incredible friends who are like family and in-laws who have become friends. I never thought my life would be so rich in people, in stories, in lessons to learn. If my tree of life were literal, it would be a mighty oak! 

I have some extra time these days to celebrate my "desires fulfilled." I want to be intentional in doing so. I want to remind my daughter of how we waited for her for 3 days while I was in labor. I want to remind my husband of how I prayed and waited for him when I was single. I want to let my girlfriends know that I had always wanted sisters growing up. And to let them all know that they were all worth the wait. They are all desires fulfilled in my life. 

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