Thursday, May 22, 2014

In Grasses Green







These gifts.  These boys with imaginations and strong wills, running through grassy fields and spilling milk at dinner.  They bring me dried worms and honor roll certificates.  They make an abundance of noise and dirty laundry.  They devour popcorn and bedtime stories.  They wear bare spots in the lawn from playing, and I am often catching them tugging on the willow tree.  They water the garden and themselves, clean their plates at dinner, and steal pillows for fort building.

These boys, brothers, little reds... are an upheaval of happiness and joy.  They belly-laugh and cry fierce tears at times.  They struggle to settle for sleep, and they destroy tubes of toothpaste.  
The weight of mothering them is gloriously heavy.  It is fraught with fears, triumphs, frustration, entertainment, and deepest love.   Their daddy and I attempt to make a life for them that is loving, balanced, and God-honoring.  They unknowingly teach us how far we still have to go.  

My storage files are full of their images.  My books are scribbled with their memories.  My heart is burdened with the responsibility attached to their life in my care.  

Sometimes, I blow it big time.  I hear my own voice in frustration saying things to them I wish I could retract.  My face reddens with anger when I am faced with disappointment in their choices.  The tight-rope walk of discipline and love is a tricky, tricky endeavor.  I often feel unbalanced and have to stop and readjust. I need grace, they need grace.  I need direction...and they must get it from me.  We hug and cry, and pick up our balance poles and go further down the rope.

Then sometimes, I walk on to the back porch and I catch a six year old reading his new Bible unprovoked by a parent.  I hear the whispered words as he struggles to comprehend the print on page.  I hear his self instructed attempts at memorization....and I breathe a deep, long sigh. 

Sometimes, despite all things, we get some things right.  

The little one tugs on hand and reminds me he will always be mommy's baby.  He smiles and says "I love my brudder."  I scoop him up in giggles and kisses.  

"I do to, I love your brudder and my baby boy."

These gifts...they keep on giving.  

What grace is this.




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