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Apr 3, 2012

What I Consider Honey to my Lips

As I prepped tonight's cuisine of spaghetti, garlic bread, and green beans, I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by this feeling of insurmountable, deep-rooted joy at the sound of my children's laughter emanating from the dandelion-dotted backyard.
Then this reminder, this little devil holding his pitchfork, eager to pierce my thoughts and heart, taunted, "this won't last, friend. Soon, they'll be gone and you will yearn, nary, ache, to hear the sound of their lilting voices laughing toward the vast heavens. You will moan and grovel and wish they were here.
Day after day after day."
And while time does steal, it makes me all the more vicious in my promise to fight for a healthy way of life for my children. To lay aside the hurt and pain I've experienced to work toward a home filled with gladness, hope, positivity, Jesus, faith, forgiveness, respect.
There's this assurance and hope (that we'll all be okay) found only in Christ and I cling to that like a newborn clasps his mother's finger. Knuckles white from holding on so tightly.

As a mother, I long for my babies, even while I'm holding them, kissing them, stroking their hair or rubbing their backs. Or holding their hands as we pray around the dinner table. Even then I miss them. Even when they are right in front of me. It just doesn't feel like enough. My soul is left both full of love and hungry for more. It's a desperate love.I want to beg God, "put them back in my womb where they are safe." Then He gently reminds me that these children are not only a gift to Shawn and I, but to the world.

And in order for God's redeeming story to continue to flood the hearts of the lost, our children are to be trained to adore and honor Him, thus furthering His story to the generations.
Oh that I could climb into Wilder's denim pocket on his first day of college calculus. Or nestle in Story's soft pink corsage as she attends prom...

Thankfully, I serve a God who is both with me and with them.

Wherever we are.For now, I am so honored He's left them to be muddy, sweaty, and happy in our backyard.

Right where I can keep a mama's watchful eye on them.

Where afterwards, Shawn and I have the opportunity--a sweet victory, really--of bathing them. Holding them. Dressing them. Singing to them.
For as long as they let us.
For as long as God gives us these glimpses of his sweet heaven.

Honey to my lips.

3 comments:

alishamcclure said...

Beautiful sentiments! Sums it all up so eloquently!

Emily B. said...

Your momma's heart is so big and so beautiful! I love and marvel at the gift God's given you to voice that heart and passion. You are dear!

Emily said...

this is gorgeous! had me in tears!