My Faith and Joy… and Boys!

Both Susie and Jimmy love their “minky” blankets more than anything else, and never sleep without them.  Those kids are my inveterate thumb suckers, too.  One of these days I’ll tackle that habit, but for right now, it makes for happy kids – and a happy mom!

My climber (Becky loves to scale park structures and see how high she can get):

My diggers (Susie and Jimmy are happiest when they’re in dirt or sand, digging to see how deep they can get):

My favorite place to take the kids – the park!

Motherhood is more than a collection of tasks (wipe this chin, make that bed, soothe those tears), more than a way to fill my days (get kids up, changed, dressed, fed, repeat), and so much more than an important role to play in a young life (teach this concept, mold that character).  It’s a gift I’ve been given.  My children are hand-picked for me, whether they are biologically related to me or not.  My children are perfectly placed in my life at just the right time and in just the right way, whether they are pre-term, full-term, healthy or disabled.  My children are entrusted to my care for as long as God sees fit, whether they are with me for hours, years or decades.     

This gift of motherhood is one I must unwrap moment-by-moment.  I can’t fully appreciate my newborn while he’s screaming for a midnight feed, nor can I fully appreciate my preschooler while she’s throwing her third tantrum before breakfast.  It takes being present every day and noticing the little steps, the growth on a minute scale.   With each day, I can peel off a little more wrapping and get to see a larger glimpse of the developing personality beneath.  Sometimes I wish I could rip the whole package open and know what’s in store, both to steel myself for the inevitable trials but also to encourage myself with a view of the God-designed finished product.  But God doesn’t operate that way.  Sometimes He gives me a sneak peek, like when I see my girls tenderly and voluntarily sharing with each other, and I breathe a little easier knowing that toddler-esque selfishness doesn’t last forever.  Sometimes the gift feels heavier than I am capable of lifting, like when my children are sick, or when their disobedience tries my patience again and again.  And sometimes the gift feels so brief, as if the unwrapping is going far too quickly.  I look at the difference between my children today and my children a year ago, and it takes my breath away.  How much more will they mature in the next year?  What will the girls’ drawings look like?  How much taller and stronger will my son be?  What will my baby be doing? 

This gift of motherhood changes me, changes the way I look at my own mother.  I constantly ask myself, how did she do it?  How did she get dinner on the table every night?  How did she answer our questions for the umpteenth time?  How did she know just the right lullaby to sing at night?  How did she manage to always make us feel secure, appreciated, valued, even when she was tired or we were cranky?  How did she know that we loved her, even when we didn’t show it?  How did she know the perfect words to say at the perfect time?  How did she know we needed that extra hug or two or three?

This gift of motherhood is undeserved, and I am humbled by God’s grace in bestowing it upon me.  So I thank Him for His kind mercy.  I thank my mom for her endless care.  I thank my children for their sweet trust.  And I thank my husband for his constant support.  I am so grateful for this gift.      

Becky’s hair is finally getting long enough to respond to this Northeastern humidity.  Look at those weather-induced curls!