Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” 14 Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. 15 Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.”
James 4:13-15
When the boys were all little (newborn, 1- and 2-years old), I used to wonder what it would be like when they were all big and full-blown boys, you know? How would it look when they could play Legos, wrestle with each other, build things, read books…. I would try to imagine it in my severely sleep-deprived brain. It looked something like a 1950’s family movie reel, all black and white, no sound, and three blonde boys giving light-hearted punches on each others shoulders while they smiled and laughed, waving and mouthing the words, “I love you, Mom!”
It does look like that… sometimes.
Other times it looks like full-blown screaming cage matches, with potentially lethal blows and the Bose-like stereo sound of words like, “I HAD THAT FIRST!!!!”, or “HE HIT ME! WAAAAH!!!”
It is these moments that I know I am truly a mama, because I still want to pick up those loud, fighting children and hold them until they can handle their lives. (Sometimes I feel a need for chocolate before I pick them up and love them, but that is another thought all-together…)
But there is a feeling I have had lately. It’s been an urgent, pressing drive to make the most of today. The years of their childhoods are slipping by so very quickly. They are getting big while I am blinking and pouring another cup of coffee. I can’t seem to grab them enough, tell them enough about life while they will still listen to me, while they still call me “Sweetheart”, while I am still neither “cool” or “uncool”, but I am just “Mommy”.
Today they still want me to kiss them, tell them how cute they are, read to them, explain how a chicken grows in an egg, and tell them the stories about when their Uncle Cody and I visited the family farm in Oklahoma. They still like for me to brush their teeth, take them with me to the store, and explain why everyone is talking about earthquakes and nuclear power plants. They don’t go to their friends or the internet for that stuff. It’s just me and their “Dada” that they look to for those things.
I know it is sometimes not so vogue to stay home and wear sweatpants every day and homeschool your children. I know that we could have more, do more, go more if I had some sort of lucrative and gainful employment. I know that sometimes I could use a day away, a morning off, or an adult to sit and converse with about something totally unrelated to the NFL, Star Wars, or burping.
I also know that today is the only day I have for sure, for true and for always.
I am so happy to have the privilege of being able to choose today to spend my time knowing my children better, making our home a place where they are safe and loved, and serving my family. So few women in the world have that privilege, and I don’t want to take it for granted. My life is not glamorous and it can sometimes be tedious, repetitive and frustrating.
The thing it always is though, every day, is a gift. It is many gifts, really. The rare gift of choice and freedom as a woman. The gift of knowing my children and loving them. The amazing gift of a husband who loves me and is by my side in parenthood.
I think the greatest gift, though, has been the frustration and challenge every day has placed before me. I used to wonder why it was so hard, and now I know that joy is in the difficulty. The truest gift is the joy that comes from a life surrendered to trusting that God holds my today and He brings me my tomorrows, and I am not going to miss out on anything, whether easy or hard, that He means to use for His glory. That is a glorious gift, and I am so grateful for it.
