I get so caught up in getting the house cleaned, the kids to xyz, or being here or there because that's what I'm supposed to do that I let their little lives slip before my eyes. This past year flew by. One of my favorite pastimes is looking at old photos on my phone. I'm blown away with how they've grown. I say all this after holding my 5.5 month old until he nodded off to sleep tonight. His sweet little frame breathing in and out, his eyes closed, and mine were, too in desperate prayer that I can somehow shape him into the man God wants him to be. Psalm 127 says,
"Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat- for he grants sleep to those he loves. Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. They will not be put to shame when they contend with their enemies in the gate."
Sometimes I cling to this chapter because in the hustle and bustle of this life, the enemy creeps in and says to me that I'm not good enough. He tries to tell me that if I were a good mom that I would remember every single new sound or word that my deaf child utters. If only I were good enough to have my three year old completely potty trained. Then, there are the things other people say. "You know what causes that right?" "Oh, look! There are three!" "It looks like you need to get a hobby." "Are you sad you didn't get your girl?" Oh, I'm sure they're said jokingly, but they're not always understood that way. Sometimes when the enemy is attacking, I interpret those comments in a way they weren't intended. The overall message is clear, though. The world says that we're to have 2.5 children and a white picket fence. People often look at me like I've met my quota and I should be done.
But then I visit the middle of God's holy word and it's right there in black and white. Children are a reward. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them....they will NOT be put to shame.
Yes, I know my hands are so so full. Most days I want to pull all my hairs out. Sometimes I yell and have to ask my kids to forgive me. Sometimes I really really really just want to run away. But then, Abel comes up to me with his head full of curly hair, pizza smeared all over his cheeks and hands, and he gives me his toothy grin. Or Merit does his cutest kid ever laugh. Or Kinley says, "Mommy's my girlfriend." And I just know that I'm doing alright at this mom thing.
I might be stressed to the max. I might be tossing babes into the car in tears. I might eat chocolate for breakfast because I'm already ready for their nap time at 9:36am, but I'm blessed and I know it. Ultimately, my job isn't to have dinner on the table at five o'clock or to keep the house orderly all the time, or even to get Abel to every single therapy he "requires". My job is to raise up these boys so that they will hopefully make a decision to know God and to follow him. That's what I was put here for and I know that now.
"Your greatest contribution to the kingdom of God may not be something you do but someone you raise." -Andy Stanley
