Mothering is on my mind this week. If feels a little like cheating since Sunday was Father’s Day. In what is perhaps the exact opposite perspective from my post yesterday, I’ve been considering time and the passing of it. Instead of dwelling on the difficult, I’ve been thinking how my little tiny baby girl lost her first tooth on the last day of kindergarten. My other little and tiny baby girl started reading books to herself rather than needing me to read them to her. My even littler and tinier baby boy turned four and is getting too heavy to carry. They are little and they are tiny.
But not really.
Being a sentimental sap means I take photos to remember and I record to relive. In fact, we do it here together on Tuesdays. But I have to be careful.
Sometimes enjoying this moment skirts dangerously close to longing for the days that were before. My feeler gets the best of me and I am swallowed up in a sea of sentiment until it feels as though I might drown in the sorrow of life moving on. That sorrow, though evidence of a tender heart, is able to steal the moments of this day, the ones the Lord has made. To embrace the day I have rather than long for those other days is one of the most difficult challenges of my mother heart. Remembering the then threatens to overwhelm my now with a swirly mix of sentiment and regret. I didn’t hold them enough, enjoy them enough, pray enough.
We are given this day to live and breathe and move around in. Grace is lavished. Mercy overwhelms. Love holds us together. Today.
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