What if I Get a Million More?

Expecting joy (instead of living in dread)

Oct 29, 2024

Have you ever body surfed in the ocean?

I’m not talking about anything crazy, like catching a 10-foot wave in Hawaii or anything—just wading out bellybutton deep into the water with your siblings on spring break. You wait for a wave, and right when you see the little white crest start to form at the top, you turn back around toward the beach, flatten your body like you’re about to dive, and try to ride the wave back toward the shore.

It’s exhilarating when you catch it just right. It feels like flying.

When you don’t, though, it’s pretty terrifying.

You’re pounded underwater, sometimes somersaulted or thrown to the sandy floor if it’s a strong enough wave. And for a few seconds, it feels like you won’t be able to come back up for air.

It’s the worst when this happens multiple times in a row. You finally push yourself above water for a deep inhale, only to turn around and see the white of another wave about to slam you back under.

I haven’t been to the ocean in years, but this feeling has been a little too familiar to me lately.

Living through multiple heavy traumas within days of each other on top of being near the end of pregnancy and dealing with the normal challenge of everyday life has been too much for me. It’s felt like right when I come up for air after being tossed underwater, I’m pushed back down by another wave.

So after almost drowning several times, my natural tendency is to just start to expect the next wave. I live in dread, knowing that coming up for air will provide momentary relief, but that it’s never lasting.

Something bad is always coming.

This is what they tell you, right?

Living through something like a car accident should make you feel grateful “because you never know when it could be your last time in the car with your family.”

“Hard things should remind you that each day isn’t guaranteed, so you need to focus on taking it all in before it’s gone.”

This mindset has been healthy and helpful for me in many seasons. It’s helped me to be present and practice gratitude for what I have.

But if I’m being honest, in this season, all it’s done is fill me with dread.

I’ve started to obsessively worry that each moment is my last and that joy is quickly running out and I’m always on the verge of the next trauma or challenge.

So the other day during a particularly blissful moment, instead of asking myself, “What if this moment is my last?” I asked a different question.

What if I get to live this a million times?

What if I get a million more morning goodbye kisses from my husband?

What if I get to watch my daughter belly laugh a million more times?

What if I get to witness a million more autumns?

What if I play at the park with my daughter a million more times?

What if there are a million more second chances? A million more moments of peace? A million more sunsets? A million more chances to serve? A million more family walks? A million more moments that take my breath away?

What if there are a million more where that came from?

What if I’m given a million more?