God, it’s me.

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Good morning, God. It’s me.

I’m up a little earlier than usual this morning. I’ve made my coffee. I’m seated in my office, at my small black desk, to meet with You.

As usual, the house is quiet this time of morning. All I hear is the ceiling fan above my head, an occasional car passing by my front window, and the faint snore of our favorite Jack Russell sacked out in the living room. No doubt he is curled up next to one of my littles who are sleeping soundly after last night’s late movie – a fun, relaxing way to spend a Friday night with family.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t keep my eyes open. Not long into the movie, I retreated to my room to find sleep. So here I am, awake at 5:30 a.m., sitting in the calm of the morning with you, Lord. Exactly where I need to be.

As I think back over the past couple of weeks, I am thankful.

Going to two doctors’ appointments, my imagination convincing me something may be wrong. Wondering what effect it would have on my children. Trusting even the worst of scenarios would somehow turn out okay. Then, very much relieved with the news that all is well. Thank you, God.

Seeing all of my children crowd around the dining room table to play a game. It seems trivial, but in reality, it is not. They are here. Present in this life. Present in this family. Present in this home. And they enjoy being together. In this age of technology and busyness, what a blessing!

As they play their game, the grandbabies are also in the mix. Too young to play, but very much a part of these sweet moments. The almost two year old climbing from one lap to another, trying hard to swipe a game piece as he goes. The baby, passed around the table, coddled by her people as if it’s second nature – because it is.  Another blessing.

I watch my children…

As a mother, I am keenly aware of my mistakes, remembering many of them too well. Saying yes when I should have said no; saying no when I should have said yes. Trusting others with my children, only to realize they were not trustworthy. Making decisions based on others’ opinions rather than my own convictions.

I could go on and on, God, lingering on my past failures, yet I know that is not the answer. Oh, how I long to get this mothering thing right!

Should I learn from the past? Of course. But should I live there? Absolutely not.

So once again, I am thankful. Thankful for your forgiveness. Thankful for the extra chances you give me to grow into the mother -and the wife- you call me to be. Thankful you didn’t expect me to get it all right the first time, nor do you expect that of me now.

I still have so much to learn, so many mistakes to make. But I must tell you, picturing my children crowded around that worn-out table brings hope and encouragement to my momma-heart. Just as you knew it would… thank you. 

 

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