My kids are growing up. I might be able to ignore that fact if life didn't give me almost daily reminders. College applications come in the mail. Jeans from just last summer now seem laughably small. And I am often asking Hillary to reach the top shelf, or Parker to carry the heavy vacuum cleaner up the stairs for me. It's been a wild ride...and it's not exactly over. But it would be easy to spend time lamenting the baby days...the early years when things seemed much more under my control.
And then I spend a Friday evening being just a woman, not a mom. I went with a couple of other girls from church to take a meal to a young mother of twins who just lost her husband. She smiled and thanked us. I hugged her and sat in the floor, reading about hippos and elephants with wide-eyed toddlers. And I realized that I could focus on ministering to this family...because my own was taking care of themselves at the moment.
I believe that raising my children well is one of the purposes God has for me. But as they become more independent, he sets new things in front of me. I guess my kids aren't the only ones who are growing. My Father must be proud!
2 comments:
I ain't your daddy, but I am thinking that's pretty cool. Thanks for taking a leading role in making a difference in peoples lives. Just watch out for the toilet bowl effect....Ha! Even though your family can "help themselves" they still need you. Don't forget yourself!
Both your fathers are proud of you. And your mom is, too. MOM
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