The Little Child Inside

When I was a little kid my parents would go away sometimes for a week or ten days or even a long weekend. The time away was good and important for them, but I hated it. I missed my mom so much I would cry myself to sleep every night. Every day seemed to drag on and time seemed to slow down. I just wanted her to come home and make me feel loved and safe again.

I turn 28 tomorrow, no longer a little child, but I still have those same feelings sometimes. I want to curl up and cry each night and beg my mom to come home and be here for me again. Then a week seemed like an eternity. How much worse now is an entire lifetime to endure.

It's funny how time plays tricks on us. You blink and so much seems to have passed and yet other days, other weeks feel like an eternity. October 29, 2008 felt like the longest day of my life. Though it physically possessed the same 24 hours as any other day, emotionally and psychologically I experienced that day much, much longer than most others in my life. Similarly the week that followed seemed like months, an entire lifetime as I was overly aware of every passing minute. It makes me wonder about heaven, about eternity. If I am able to grasp how time can be different in two separate days, perhaps I can understand, if only a little, how God works outside of time. Small comfort, unfortunately, I'm still the small child crying inside for her mommy.