A time for everything

My last day in the office before what turned out to be 3 months of bed rest was on September 19, 2008. Today, almost exactly 3 years later, I stumbled come across the container into which I stashed some of the objects that surrounded me there, in the little cubicle that I occupied for more than 7 years. That brown box, a time capsule of sorts, contained the few items that I considered worth saving at the time:

1. A photo of me and Ted taken on a trip to Buenos Aires 
2. A couple of Beatles magnets
3. A little box of daily Scripture promises
4. A tiny salt/pepper shaker
5. A bunch of notepads that I made out of paper destined for the trash
6. The 1-gallon pin that I earned for regularly donating blood 
7. A key chain from Peru
8. A never-used sewing kit
9. A bracelet that says "Confía en Dios" (Trust in God), made by a friend in Uruguay
10. A desk decoration bearing the text of Jeremiah 29:11, given to me by my mom when I went to college

As I reviewed the contents of the box, I was struck by what they say about who I was before I became a "quad mom." And then I started comparing that to what my life is like after quads. Some things are the same (I love the Beatles, I avoid sewing), and some things are different (let's just say the 2-gallon donation pin is a long way off). Some things seem nearer (never before have I needed to cling to God's promises the way I do now), and some seem much, much farther away (will Ted and I ever get to travel to South America again?).

Of course, if I were to pack up my "office" now, the box would contain only representations of these four precious souls, to whom I am currently devoting all of my time and energy:

Perhaps one day I will find a way to bring together "Suzy-then" and "Suzy-now." But it's not time for that yet.

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens.

—Ecclesiastes 3:1