Motherhood

I have looked down at the soft round faces of my babies and marvelled that some day they will have angular cheek bones and a five o'clock shadow (the boys, that is!). 


When people told me the days would be long, but the years would be short - I didn't understand.  I do now.


I remember the evening, sitting in a rocking chair, that I realized my baby girl's legs were too long for her to be held comfortably as she fell asleep. It seemed that just the night before she was still short enough to snuggle easily in my arms.  She was wearing a pink fleece sleeper with a zipper.  Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing even as she lay with her head on my shoulder and I wondered how many days of this I had left before she was too big altogether for such holding.  She's 13 now.


The depth of God's creativity and goodness awe me as I have watched my kids develop their own personalities, and relationships with Father.


I have discovered that I physically ache while helping my child struggle through loneliness, frustration or disappointment.


I am learning how deeply Father's heart must be wrapped up in His children.  His fierce protectiveness and pure joy regarding His children are reflected in mothers everywhere.


I can make 4 different sandwiches at 10 o'clock at nite that will perfectly meet the tastes of my children on our Sunday picnic the following day.  I know without hesitation who will want mayo, who likes extra cheese, the one child who will eat mustard, and who needs their sandwich cut into little squares to make it more enjoyable.


The deepest moments of regret that I have are when I've handled life badly and hurt one of my children with my words or actions.


There's a single moment with each child that I remember with precision clarity - the moment they were first handed to me still warm and squishy.  The first time I looked into their squinting eyes - trying to get adjusted to the first minutes of daylight.


Sheer terror is another emotion that accompanies motherhood - like when my 3 year old ran from the park ahead of me (very pregnant) into our yard and hid.  I searched everywhere - but since it was humid, hot and pitch dark in the shed I didn't look there.  Then I saw the sightest waver of the closed door, and I pulled my grinning imp out feeling schizophrenic as I wondered whether to hug him or shake him.


Who knew watching your child sleep would bring such a deep sense of fulfillment...


The intense desire to throttle someone was rather new to me until we invited some new people over after church one day years ago. Their 4-year old shoved my 18-month old down the stairs head over heels. He landed on his face and had the shape of his soother imprinted in bruises around his mouth. The "new people" chuckled and said that "if anything was broken children were apt to come up and tell you - there was no reason to run down to see about the fuss." I needed the Lord to forgive me for my thought life that day.

I would desperately want my baby to sleep - and then check to be sure they were breathing, and undoubtedly I'd wake them up.


Trusting the Lord takes on new dimensions as children get older.  Field trips here and there, riding their bikes to school alone (I know for a fact that one of my children doesn't always "STAY TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD!" like I've gently reminded him) and going to camp for a week at a time.  These are a few of the times I have to completely believe that Father will protect and return my children to me.


Is it normal that I want the "trump to sound" announcing the 2nd coming before my children have to get their driver's licenses?


I'm so glad God made me a mother:)