Nothing could prepare me for motherhood
the joy, the pain, the awesome priviledge of bearing and rearing a child.

I remember the first time I held my daughter in my arms, such a tiny thing, looking up at me with those big trusting eyes. I was totally overwhelmed. And I can remember thinking: so this is how God sees us - His creation, totally beloved, full of potential and worth. I felt a rush of potective desire that this child would not suffer pain, that this child would live in happiness and light, that this child would be all she could be, as far as my strenght and might could lead her. And then when the second child came, I was surprised still at the wonder I felt. And what an honor it was (and is) to be someone's mom.

Of course being human I've often failed at my goals for Laura and Seth, and our home has not always been full of happiness and light. The pain of rearing children is seeing their innocence and perfection marred by a sinful world. And holding on to their value as well as helping them value themselves is a challenge when at times it seems all the forces of hell are bent against you.

For me the teen years were hardest, when my children began to see themselves as adults and were testing what that meant - in good ways and bad ways. Holding on to my mother's love was sometimes gritting my teeth against the winds of change and loving despite the pain, while at the same time, fully remembering my own rebellions and the wages I reaped from it.

I was blessed to be home with my children from their birth until they were of school age. I highly recommend it. That fancy house, or new car, or home on the lake is not worth missing any of the precious moments that are so fleeting. Joy and tears mingle in memory, but both are treasured with awe.

OOPS I see I'm babbling again. I can't seem to talk of my children, or of any children, without the tears welling up. Without mingling sweet memories and present blessedness. When you see a parent or grandparent take out those photos and start beaming, ya go "huh oh" and prepared to gracefully be bored for hours on end.

If we have such delight in our children, HOW MUCH MORE does God delight in us, the children of His heart? How much more does he point out our joys and triumphs, how much more does He applaud our worth? God must have a mighty big wallet, to contain all the pictures of His beloved ones - and wonder if the angels ever sigh and think, "huh oh here He goes again!".

And how He sorrows and longs for the lost ones, the stubborn hearts and stiff necks that refuse to receive His love. Oh, He lavishes all good things on them anyway, even if they hatefully ignore the source of their good gifts. But that longing revealed itself in the sending of the Only Begotten Son, who is the express image of His Father, who carries the love of the Father in His eyes, who went even to death for us all, to bring the Father's message: "Come home my child!"

A Career Vs. Being a Mom

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