Live In The Moment
Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
That's what your name means, Adessa. Literally, "Adessa" comes from the Italian word "adesso," which means "now." I remember when your Mommy and I were trying to think of names. We considered quite a few, including Sofia (thank goodness we didn't go with that as there are a lot of little Sofias running around these days) and Gibson (if you were a boy). But when the name Adessa came up, and with the meaning behind it... well, we just knew it was right.
We were proud to have "invented" a new name without creating one that was hard to spell, pronounce, or that sounded a little too -- shall we say -- pretentious. Adessa. Simple, elegant, fairly easy to remember... but unique. There are no other Adessa Brinkmans in this world. You are one-of-a-kind.
Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
We always hoped that would be a motto for you, that your name would be more than just a meaningless identifier. It was our prayer that you would one day learn to take that to heart yourself, that you would discover sooner than later one of the difficult truths of this life, that the things we take for granted -- like happiness, friends and family, even our next breath -- are not promised to us tomorrow. The past is gone, fading and unalterable. The future is uncertain and we do not know what or even how much time is in store. All we have in reality is... now.
Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
That's not exactly some well-kept secret, is it? We hear it all the time. You see that same sentiment expressed on shirts, bumper stickers, and in email signatures. Most everyone has read or heard the Bible passage that says
The difficulty is not in having ever heard this idea -- it is in putting it into practice. Daily.
Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
It's been exactly one month since I've seen or even been able to speak with you, Adessa. This separation from you has been agony for me. Just when I thought our lives had turned a corner, that a time of immense suffering and trial was at an end, that the peace we had been experiencing for months on end was a sign of continued growth and hope... wow. This blindsided me.
And yet, I am grateful for what God is reinforcing through these difficult times: He is showing me the truth of that scripture. Take nothing for granted. Don't assume you know what is to come. Keep short accounts. Live today like it is your last. Don't hold onto anger, fear, or bitterness. Love fully and outrageously. Honor God in everything, even in what others cannot see. Treasure those close to you and don't hold back. Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
Two years ago, I didn't understand that. I'd heard it many times and I even thought I understood it. I had no clue. I took the blessings in my life for granted. I suppose that is human nature, that we take for granted that which we assume we have an endless supply of. So although I loved you, I took you for granted. From the day you were born until April 23, 2009, you were in my life every single day. Not a single day went by that I was not able to hug you, to kiss you, to spend time with you, and to tell you in person how much I loved you.
Having 844 consecutive days of something or someone in your life begins to build an illusion: that things will always be that way. We get comfortable with that. We lose our sense of urgency. It is human nature.
But human nature is no excuse. I let my guard down. I did not treasure every day -- every moment -- with you the way God wanted me to. I fell prey to the trap of "there's always tomorrow." Again, I loved you -- I always have and I always will! -- but there's a difference between loving someone in complacency and loving someone with urgency. The former leads to apathy. The latter leads to a full appreciation of someone, of living each moment with the understanding that it is a blessing that won't last forever, and of being truly thankful to God for the things that truly matter in this life.
Like holding you in my arms. Playing with you in the park. Singing silly songs with you. Laughing as you tell me your crazy "knock-knock" jokes. Walking together with you and Bella. Watching with pride as you play with your friends at church. Enjoying countless parks, museums, beaches, bike trails, zoos, amusement parks, restaurants, shops, lakes, festivals, concerts, and fairs together with you. In short, experiencing life with you, letting you know each and every day and in each and every moment just how much I treasure you.
I have a learned a lot over the last year-and-a-half, but perhaps the lesson that I hold most dear is the awakening I've experienced in this area. Two years ago, I didn't fully appreciate the blessing you were in my life. Today, my eyes are open. And I can say with pure conviction that I haven't taken you for granted in a long, long time. I don't look back with regret at our last day together, with a feeling of "I should have appreciated that time more." The fact is, Adessa, I did treasure that time with you. The events of these last 18 months taught me to do that and by God's grace it is a lesson I will never forget -- not when you're five, not when you're ten, not when you're fifteen... not even when you're forty.
Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
I am hurting right now in this time of separation from you, but I am not hopeless. I pray for you every day, all day long. I think of you often and talk to others about you all the time. I read back through our blog here and think of all the happy times we've had together. And I look forward with joyful anticipation to when I can hold you in my arms, kiss you, and tell you face-to-face again how much I love you.
Adessa, you are special, unique, one-of-a-kind. You are my only child. You are a treasure to me. I love you, Adessa.
Daddy
That's what your name means, Adessa. Literally, "Adessa" comes from the Italian word "adesso," which means "now." I remember when your Mommy and I were trying to think of names. We considered quite a few, including Sofia (thank goodness we didn't go with that as there are a lot of little Sofias running around these days) and Gibson (if you were a boy). But when the name Adessa came up, and with the meaning behind it... well, we just knew it was right.
We were proud to have "invented" a new name without creating one that was hard to spell, pronounce, or that sounded a little too -- shall we say -- pretentious. Adessa. Simple, elegant, fairly easy to remember... but unique. There are no other Adessa Brinkmans in this world. You are one-of-a-kind.
Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
We always hoped that would be a motto for you, that your name would be more than just a meaningless identifier. It was our prayer that you would one day learn to take that to heart yourself, that you would discover sooner than later one of the difficult truths of this life, that the things we take for granted -- like happiness, friends and family, even our next breath -- are not promised to us tomorrow. The past is gone, fading and unalterable. The future is uncertain and we do not know what or even how much time is in store. All we have in reality is... now.
Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
That's not exactly some well-kept secret, is it? We hear it all the time. You see that same sentiment expressed on shirts, bumper stickers, and in email signatures. Most everyone has read or heard the Bible passage that says
Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, and spend a year there and engage in business and make a profit." Yet you do not know what your your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.
The difficulty is not in having ever heard this idea -- it is in putting it into practice. Daily.
Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
It's been exactly one month since I've seen or even been able to speak with you, Adessa. This separation from you has been agony for me. Just when I thought our lives had turned a corner, that a time of immense suffering and trial was at an end, that the peace we had been experiencing for months on end was a sign of continued growth and hope... wow. This blindsided me.
And yet, I am grateful for what God is reinforcing through these difficult times: He is showing me the truth of that scripture. Take nothing for granted. Don't assume you know what is to come. Keep short accounts. Live today like it is your last. Don't hold onto anger, fear, or bitterness. Love fully and outrageously. Honor God in everything, even in what others cannot see. Treasure those close to you and don't hold back. Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
Two years ago, I didn't understand that. I'd heard it many times and I even thought I understood it. I had no clue. I took the blessings in my life for granted. I suppose that is human nature, that we take for granted that which we assume we have an endless supply of. So although I loved you, I took you for granted. From the day you were born until April 23, 2009, you were in my life every single day. Not a single day went by that I was not able to hug you, to kiss you, to spend time with you, and to tell you in person how much I loved you.
Having 844 consecutive days of something or someone in your life begins to build an illusion: that things will always be that way. We get comfortable with that. We lose our sense of urgency. It is human nature.
But human nature is no excuse. I let my guard down. I did not treasure every day -- every moment -- with you the way God wanted me to. I fell prey to the trap of "there's always tomorrow." Again, I loved you -- I always have and I always will! -- but there's a difference between loving someone in complacency and loving someone with urgency. The former leads to apathy. The latter leads to a full appreciation of someone, of living each moment with the understanding that it is a blessing that won't last forever, and of being truly thankful to God for the things that truly matter in this life.
Like holding you in my arms. Playing with you in the park. Singing silly songs with you. Laughing as you tell me your crazy "knock-knock" jokes. Walking together with you and Bella. Watching with pride as you play with your friends at church. Enjoying countless parks, museums, beaches, bike trails, zoos, amusement parks, restaurants, shops, lakes, festivals, concerts, and fairs together with you. In short, experiencing life with you, letting you know each and every day and in each and every moment just how much I treasure you.
I have a learned a lot over the last year-and-a-half, but perhaps the lesson that I hold most dear is the awakening I've experienced in this area. Two years ago, I didn't fully appreciate the blessing you were in my life. Today, my eyes are open. And I can say with pure conviction that I haven't taken you for granted in a long, long time. I don't look back with regret at our last day together, with a feeling of "I should have appreciated that time more." The fact is, Adessa, I did treasure that time with you. The events of these last 18 months taught me to do that and by God's grace it is a lesson I will never forget -- not when you're five, not when you're ten, not when you're fifteen... not even when you're forty.
Live in the moment. We are not promised another day.
I am hurting right now in this time of separation from you, but I am not hopeless. I pray for you every day, all day long. I think of you often and talk to others about you all the time. I read back through our blog here and think of all the happy times we've had together. And I look forward with joyful anticipation to when I can hold you in my arms, kiss you, and tell you face-to-face again how much I love you.
Adessa, you are special, unique, one-of-a-kind. You are my only child. You are a treasure to me. I love you, Adessa.
Daddy
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