Sometimes God can use a short unexpected interaction to turn our perspective on its head. 

A couple of months after Lexi passed away, I found myself standing in a classroom at a nearby elementary school. Since the beginning of the school year, I had taken older students to tutor there once a week. This was the first time I had been back since Lexi left us. I was struggling to get into the swing of work and my normal daily routine. The monster of grief was always with me, threatening to come bursting out in a tirade of tears at any time. 

The fourth-grade teacher in charge of the class came over to offer her condolences to me. I thanked her and took a deep breath, praying to be able to hold my emotions in. After an awkward pause, she said quietly, “You know, I was never able to have kids. We tried for many years, but it just wasn’t in the cards for us.” Another awkward pause. Then she spread her arms wide and looked around the room at the fourth-graders busy at work with their tutors. “Now these are my kids!” She took me aside to show me a project she and her husband were working on – a game for a school fun night the next week. I smiled, loving the way she poured herself into her students.  But I hadn’t missed the sadness and longing in her voice. Then she turned to me and softly said, “I’m glad you got to have the experience of having a daughter.”

Those works struck me in the heart. I realized how much that woman longed for what I had – twenty-one years with a daughter. She would have given absolutely anything for that experience. This woman couldn’t begin to know my pain. She didn’t understand the debilitating heartbreak that I was struggling with every moment of every day. She only saw that I got to have two decades with a child of my own, something she would never have.

Suddenly, as I saw my situation through her eyes, my grief stilled and my gratitude grew. Memories flashed through my mind. Holding my newborn baby, in awe of the miracle of new life that was part Mike and part me. Watching her grow and learn to take those first teetery steps. Laughing our heads off together at Shel Silverstein poems. Painting cats on her bedroom walls, shopping for prom dresses, and listening to our favorite songs together. The happy memories that spilled into my mind were endless. 

Those twenty-one years were the best gift in the whole world, made more precious now that Lexi was gone. I would not trade my experiences with that special, creative, and fun-loving girl for anything. They were worth every bit of the pain. Her life was a blessing from God that I would be eternally grateful for. What if I had never had her?

This made me stop to think: Could I focus on what I had been given, rather than focusing on what I would not have?

1 Timothy 6:6-7 says, “ But godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content.”

How much have I been blessed with in this life, so much more than just food and clothing! My life has been rich and full, made more so by the gift of Lexi. Can I be content with twenty-one years? This is what God is asking me to do. 

Is it painful that I don’t have more time with my daughter? Yes, absolutely. Is it easy to dwell on the years I will not have? Again, yes.  Will I mourn the life that is gone from this earth? Oh yes! 

But…can I focus on and be grateful for the wonderful times that I did get to share with my daughter? Can I see these as a gift and appreciate them? Can I find contentment in my heart for the days God gave us together?  Yes. I will commit to focusing on this perspective.

The brief interaction with my fellow teacher showed me that I could find gratitude again. And I realized that the more I focused on my blessings, the more my gratitude would grow. And that was the way to find contentment and peace. 

God, I thank you for the many blessings I have been given. Help my heart to remember that everything I have is a gift from you, and to give you the honor and glory for every wonderful gift in my life. Redirect my mind towards gratitude when I am stewing about what I don’t have. Thank you for a life of richness and abundance.