As I rushed about picking up HotWheels, Legos, and Rescue Heroes, I lamented that supper was boiling over in the kitchen, the floor still needed to be vacuumed, and my dear husband would be home in twenty minutes! I felt rushed and exasperated, after bolting through the door, with my son in tote after work.
It was already six-o’clock and there were still baths to take, a puppy to feed, and stories to read. Also, was a plethora of work that I brought home from the office and I fretted how I would get all of that done and still be able to spend time with the love of my life. I do not think the Good Lord was remiss in giving us wee ones in our younger years — we might not have all the wisdom we need at that time…but thankfully the energy was plenty.
I have watched my sweet, toe-headed boy grow into a fine young man. We’ve been through health scares, AWANA Derbies, Upward Basketball, first love letters, heart break, and now we approach high school graduation.
Often, in the hurriedness of life, we get so caught up in the messes our children leave…we step on Legos and mutter under our breath at the audacity of him leaving it on the floor and the death-defying pain we think will never go away. I cannot name the times my husband has found a stray HotWheel (stumbling in the dark barefoot) without yelling the promise that they would all go in the trash the next morning! Of course by morning’s light the pain was gone, as too the memory!
Eighteen years later, as I fumble through boxes that have been stuffed with yesterday, I think on this man-child and wonder how life would have been so different without him. A miracle after lost babies…an unexpected and abundant blessing from the Father…I am grateful for the roly-poly Rescue Heroes gripped in chubby, dimpled hands…for the sweet call, “Mommy, tell me a story!” I remember the sleepy, fresh-bathed, sweetness that would climb in my lap before bedtime and beg…”Mommy, rocka me.”
Oh, that we could suspend time in a bottle or spin the world back around — that weed-flowers could be gilded, and the words, “I love my Mom and Dad” written in an un-mastered penmanship in a secret book could be captured for all eternity, or the surprise of a “love letter” from a blue-eyed angel expressing his innocent love for me and the sweet sentiments written in a Daddy’s Bible to encourage and edify the man whose shoes he wants to grow into.
I am grateful for the years and wish for a million more! He’s a man — raised according to the Lord’s will…the best I knew how! Gone are the nights of crying myself to sleep and feeling that I had failed. There will be no more spelling tests, or math quizzes, or book reports to grade. The little boy who would lay his head on my shoulder while listening to the pastor preach is now headed for his own pulpit…his own little boys…his own harried, wonderful life.
Now, I get the added blessing of wisdom with my years — the hope for a daughter-in-love and my own sweet grandbabies one day. However, I will never forget the young girl who brought home a baby and prayed “Hannah’s Prayer” with all the trepidation and fear that she would somehow “mess it all up!” God was faithful to that young girl and raised up a man that will serve him and make disciples and this now older mother smiles and thanks HIM for His faithfulness!
They rose early in the morning and worshiped before the LORD; then they went back to their house at Ramah. And Elkanah knew Hannah his wife, and the LORD remembered her. And in due time Hannah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Samuel, for she said, “I have asked for him from the LORD.” The man Elkanah and all his house went up to offer to the LORD the yearly sacrifice and to pay his vow. But Hannah did not go up, for she said to her husband, “As soon as the child is weaned, I will bring him, so that he may appear in the presence of the LORD and dwell there forever.” (1 Samuel 1:19-22)
Being a mother is both exhausting and rewarding, but it truly is the most important work we can do as women…that God would trust me with that precious soul will never cease to amaze me! Thank you, Father!
Azalea Trees and Tea Rooms 