I am a true orange and blue, life long, born and bred Broncos fan. Not a fair-weather fan, not a band-wagon-er, but a fan who has spent the majority of this season teaching her (not yet one year old) daughter to cheer for the Broncos and/or to not be afraid when my entire family jumps up and screams at the TV.
From the time our daughter was born, we agreed that we wouldn’t let her watch TV…except for when the Broncos are playing.
Needless to say, the Super Bowl was a pretty big deal for us. As a family we got decked out in all our Bronco gear. Though our daughter’s normal bedtime fell right in the middle of the third quarter, she stayed up, cheering and playing happily like the true little Bronco fan that she is, right up until the last five minutes of the game. The only thing that would calm her was to nurse, which she won’t do while the TV is going and people are cheering.
With a fussy baby, I left the room to nurse her – and pray that she would nurse quickly so we could catch the end of the game.
And then it happened.
A turnover, recovered by the Broncos.
Then a touchdown.
Then a successful two-point conversion.
I watched from the other room as my Dad jumped up and high-fived the rest of my family. Everyone was excited, hooting and hollering, and I was missing it all. As I sat there with my child I was sad to be missing the excitement, but I also realized that this was just the beginning.
I have no doubt that there will be countless things I’ll miss in the coming years as I tend to a fussy child, a hungry child, fighting children, sleepy children, and the like. However, instead of sitting there being annoyed at my child for simply being (and being the gift God gave me!), I can choose to unite these sacrifices – big and small – to the sacrifice Christ made for me.
This motherhood gig stretches me in more ways than I can ever put into blog posts, but even with the struggles, I’m grateful. I can always watch the last five minutes of the Super Bowl later, but that time I had, nursing my daughter as she fell asleep in my arms, those are moments I’ll never get back, moments that fade far too quickly.
So it is the beginning of an era of sacrifice, of missing things I’d like to do for the sake of my kids, but it is also the beginning of an era of parenthood and motherhood that will stretch me, and, God willing, make me a holier person.