My friend, Kristen at No Small Thing, wrote an amazing post yesterday about motherhood. About how easy it is to look around and think, “This is it?” And to her response to that question I shout an overwhelming “Yes, Yes, YES!” This is it and this is beautiful!
She writes:
Here in this little house, I am sculpting human beings.
I am molding little hearts.
I am forming little minds.
I am responsible for the very lives of four small people.
Is their truly anything bigger than this?
What if you couldn’t remember?
“What’s a memory?” he asked.
“Something warm, my child. something warm.”
“What’s a memory?” he asked.
“Something from long ago, me lad. Something from long ago.”
“What’s a memory?” he asked.
“Something that makes you cry, my boy. Something that makes you cry.”
“What’s a memory?” he asked.
“Something that makes you laugh, my darlin’. Something that makes you laugh.”
“What’s a memory?” he asked.
“Something as precious as gold, young man. Something as precious as gold.”Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge by Mem Fox
I’m watching my grandfather go downhill quickly, and it is breaking my heart.
From Steven Curtis Chapman’s liner notes on nis new CD release. This is his first CD after the death of his daughter, Maria.
I am blown away!
Shortly after Maria had been carried away to Jesus, all of us, and particularly Caleb and I began to talk about how desperate we were just to “SEE” something…a dream or a vision…anything that would help confirm in some tangible way what we were holding onto by faith, that Maria was truly “okay,” and even more than “okay,” that she really was safe in the arms of Jesus. It was a plea that I heard us all say several times in those first hours…”God, please just let us “SEE” something!”
Reading truths to my children in the morning over breakfast. Leading Little Ones to God reminds us how God is everywhere and we are never alone. I read those words this morning to my littles, and Bear leaned against my arm as we prayed, thanking God that He doesn’t leave us.
“Mom?” his green eyes looked up at me after we chorused our “amens”. “I’m so glad to know God goes with me to school, but I’m even gladder that He stays here with you to look after you.”
And I bowed my head onto the table and cried, tears that I thought would never end.
My Bear was walking through the house singing Laura Story’s Immortal, Invisible this week and I pushed back from my work to listen to him. Bear is my singer, and each day during rest time I listen to boyish voice lilting praise to his God.