Enthusiasm is a kind of faith that has been set on fire. ~ George Matthew Adams

Hello!  It’s been so long, the longest time I have gone without coming here and saying hello. I suppose in the balls that could drop, this is really the only one I could let go without feeling like it would bring all the other balls down along with it.  As I mentioned before, the minis are about to turn 3. Yes, 3. Can you believe it?  If I had time, I would be in awe but with E’s IEP, our hunt for her diagnosis, Q starting pre-school, the task of figuring out what E’s therapy schedule will be in less than one month from today when the faucet of services shuts off on her third birthday, working and keeping our household going, I have no time for awe.  I think I realized how bad it was last week, when while running, which I do to relieve stress and anxiety, I had an anxiety attack.  I am pretty sure that’s not a good sign.

But, like everything it passed.

These days have been full of rollercoaster tears, acceptance, frustration, hope, more tears and smiles and cheers of joy.

As we meet with geneticists, psychologist, OT’s, PT’s, Speech Therapists, Behaviorists, and neurologist, I drone on about all the things E can and can’t do. How, developmentally she is only 10 months old and how she is not ready to go to pre-school.  I get lost in a sea of pressure and emotion about her future. What it will bring? What if I don’t do absolutely everything? What if I drop a ball? What if I fail her?

Yet, as we meet with all of these people and they meet E for the first time, they are charmed and captivated by her enthusiasm.  By her radiant smile and playful spirit. By her intent to get whatever she wants, whether or not she is able to coordinate her movements to get there.  In a word, she is enthusiasm. She is a fire of faith all her own. A light that burns brighter than all others around her.

Each morning when she wakes, she is happy. Her enthusiasm about her day, about what’s possible fills the room and no matter where the fissures in my own heart and mind lie, this fire creeps in to fill them. One sunrise at a time she gives back to us.

On Sunday, the sun rose up to shine and remind us that everyday brings new possibilities. As E and I do nearly everyday, we were routinely working on all of her gross motor skills and we were practicing cruising.  I could feel the sweat forming on my forehead and around my neck as I struggled to help her bend her knees and take a step to the side.  Over and over, we practiced.  I could feel her coordination improving so I decided to let go to see if she could do it herself…and there, in that moment, as my mind told my hands to reach out and support her, my heart told me to let her try…so I let go…and then every moment, every minute, every hour of work paid off, thousands of hours later..she took her first two cruising steps…pure enthusiasm.

A faith on fire.  A fire I needed…to keep us going. To keep seeing the sunrise in the same way.

We all have this…sometimes it feels like an ember. Sometimes like an inferno. My kindling was in need of some new oxygen. A breath of sweet air to fill my lungs and remind me to breathe. That we can all do this. That her enthusiasm will guide us and keep our faith and hope going. We can all do this, one sunrise at a time.

Whatever things may fill your heart with doubt or sadness of any kind, remember each day will bring a new sunrise, and each day a new opportunity for enthusiasm.  And with this moment you can find a simple quiet moment to remind you, that no matter what, that moment can be ‘yournewfavoriteday.’