There is this song. It’s called Cinderella. The song was written by and is sung by Steven Curtis Chapman. I still remember how I felt the first time I heard it. It was one of those gut-wrenching, soul capturing moments that produced uncontrollable tears. (There is a story behind the song and is well worth the read–Read it here. Have tissues ready. ) I used to listen to the song on repeat while I let the truth of the words sink in. The hauntingly beautiful lyrics moved me deeply.
I hadn’t listened to the song much over the last few years. However, as our little dancer has bloomed, the song has re-emerged on our playlist.
The song starts out,
There is not one word of fluff in the lyrics and each and every time I hear them. . . I cry. Chanelle just laughs at me and can’t understand why a song would make me cry. I do cry and not those drip, drip, drip kind of tears but rather the kind of tears that literally take my breath away and prevent me from seeing clearly. It usually hits with these words.
I don’t want to miss even one song
‘Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight
And she’ll be gone.
And as quickly as I vow to dive in and be in every moment, I find myself longing for an escape.
Maybe escape isn’t the perfect word to use. I think the thing I’ve been trying to figure out is “balance”. There is a part of me that truly understands how precious this time is. A part of me that really understands that these days will be gone before I know it and that part of me says just one thing: Drink. it. in.
How do I balance these parts?
Truth is, I haven’t been doing a very good job. In my efforts to give everything 100 percent, I think I’ve lost my footing and found myself having a few too many meltdowns. Meltdowns that include declarations of I’m just going to forget about any of my goals and maybe the slamming of a door or two or six? (I have never claimed to be an entirely rational being.) Meltdowns that are completely irrational, yet still leave me feeling helpless and hopeless.
The other evening I said to Chad, I need to figure out balance. Being the wise man that he is, he said nothing, but simply nodded his head in agreement.
As I’ve thought about this during the week (I think) I’ve come to the place of acceptance that everything is not going to get 100 percent. Maybe one day our kitchen floor will be littered with footprints and sticky Popsicle drippings while the kids and I hike through the woods. Perhaps on another day the kids will sit and watch a movie while I edit pictures from a session. Maybe on another day work will wait while Chad and I escape for “us” time. . . I could go on and on. . .
I guess what I’m realizing is that just as there is “give and take” in a relationship–there is also give and take in life–though I’m not entirely sure what that looks like in practice.
Tonight as I think about the lyric “she’ll be gone” I see it two ways. . .
Embrace each moment because before you know she (they) will be gone. . .
Or, don’t lose yourself, your dreams, your relationships because before you know it, they will be gone. . .
(I’m open to any advice and words of wisdom.)