Babies

Finley is now two years old. It is strange to have no baby on the way and the baby growing up so fast. Of course, eventually this day must come for all of us, but it is bizarre for me to imagine never again holding an itty bitty of my own.

Don’t get me wrong. I am grateful for some parts of it. I am happy to think of the diaper era being over after seven years of diapers. I am thankful that we get uninterrupted sleep most nights. I am glad to feel that we will be able to take the trips that seemed too complicated with a baby in tow. Life will change, but it will go on, and be sweet in new ways.

But if I could, I would have twenty children. I would have a little, flailing, unaware-of-the-world newborn every day for the rest of my life. It is just the yummiest, coziest thing in the world.

I wish I could say that I felt equipped to handle twenty children. The mama in me would love to think I could be that strategic, organized, patient, long suffering and laid back. The frazzled woman who sends the boys upstairs so that she can get the giant pile of dishes done tells me that I am not. So does the Holy Spirit, which is probably a more important bit of information.

And so, this is why I so often call motherhood the most wonderful, horrible thing that ever happened to me. It is a continual experience of loss, of joy, of frustration, of accomplishment, of growing as a person and of revelation that so much more growth is necessary. And I love it. No matter how many times I fail, my children are so quick to look past my weakness, so soon to tell me that I am the best mom in the world. I am amazed every time at their capacity to love and forgive me.

Family is such a blessing straight from God. He uses mine so strategically in my life to make me more than I would be without them, and to show me how big His heart is as well. He too, longs for more children every day and, if I will truly look for the opportunity, He will use me to bring them to Him. Maybe there are more babies for me after all.