I Wish I Understood How She Does This!

This morning around 6:45 a.m. I called to my children upstairs to wake them. I followed the same morning ritual as always. But today something struck me. My 11 year old daughter, Valerie has been drawing since she was two (as shown in the pic above). She has a very beautiful artistic gift and it's blossomed over the years just as she has. For almost a decade now we've accepted that there is never anything to write with or write on in our home. We scavange for scraps of paper and working pens and whole pencils, not chips and shards of pencils. Almost every evening Valerie draws before going to bed. In the morning she typically wakes up and comes to me with some new sketch or story. In my sleepy, hurried haze I always hug her, take the paper or papers and tell her that I'll look at them in a little while, which I do (after my eyes open - usually when they're eating breakfast). When they sit down in the kitchen to eat I stand at the counter to join them and talk about what Valerie's drawn or what book Michael is reading. And as Valerie wandered down the stairs sleepily this morning with paper in hand it occurred to me that as commonplace as this has become it might stop someday. I began to panic before she reached the bottom step that spills into the hallway. I took the paper from her and held her a little longer this morning. My mind raced with splotchy bits of "what if's?" What if she loses interest in drawing? What if she stops wanting paper, charcoal, pencils, drawing pads, envelopes, scrap or junk mail from the backseat of my car? What if? Oh my God! I swore to myself that I would no longer begrudge her the mounting stacks of falling sketches and bits of artwork that pile up on the hall table, corner stand or the kitchen counter.

I swore silently that I would cherish every moment I spent twinged over her complete defiance at putting away her drawing paper and utencils. I will do my best to commit myself to thanking God more for the precious gift he bestowed on her. I never want to stop being irritated by the overspill Valerie creates. I never want to see the day when phone calls, boyfriends, emailing, social commitments and random teenage bordom overpower her thirst for paper and pencil. I pray I never see an end to the one and only peeve that Valerie posesses, and that's when she runs out of paper. She is a cool breeze that's blown across my life for more than 1/3 of my existance. The only time she becomes aggitated and unconsolable is when I'm not able to immediately provide paper. She is the sweetest, most endeering, lovely girl. I find it remarkable that her world is wound and bound by her ability to release what's in her head. It must follow through to her fingertips or you will have no peace and no rest until it does! I was blindly caught off guard not long ago when I took both Valerie and Michael on a day trip to Savannah and on the way home she ran out of paper, became aggitated and nagged me until we walked in the door of our home and she could access more paper. We very seldom fight or argue. She is eager to please and tries her best at whatever she does; So it's a bit of a shock to my system to witness my sweet daughter nag, beg, snip and snarl when she's not getting her way.

 And so it's just occurred to me this very morning that these little irritants that Valerie plants throughout our world are so very near and dear to me. I would love nothing more than to continue to be flustered, frustrated, irritated and overwhelmed by all of Valerie's "art stuff" for the rest of my life. I believe this is the first time I've ever prayed that God continue to let me be bothered and I love it!