Mulititude Monday, Mothers Day Edition

The sweetness still lingers from my Mothers Day, when hearts praised in their little, but oh-so-big!, ways.

A boy who overheard Mama-gushes about the bluebells being in bloom, rising up before anyone else and heading out in pj's to the forest edge to gather a big bouquet of them just for me.

A girl who conspired for three weeks to buy ("with my OWN money!" she swelled) a bar of dark chocolate for me. I do recall vaguely her asking nonchalantly but completely out of context whether I preferred dark or milk chocolate. It all makes sense now.

A husband who bypasses the all-caps-printing to write bits of love and appreciation in cursive.

And I look on, with swollen heart, and wonder at the beauty of it. The gift of it. The joy.

Never, until I became a mother myself, did I realize what it meant to be a Mother. Only now that I too am one, can I understand the gravity of the gift I was given by my own mother each day of my life. And only now, when I ponder my life without my dearlings, can I begin to comprehend the incredible wonder, the amazing gift, the blessedness of my little loves.

It didn't have to be so. It ISN'T so for many wonderful, yearning women. And yet here I sit, listening to little snores, a boy humming, and a girl flipping pages as she wills more light from the windowsills. I am so incredibly blessed. And for no good reason!

This Multitude Monday I can think only of the great joy God has given me by granting me one of my great desires...to be a Mother.

Sometimes the gift is found in gathered bouquets or moments of lovely and sometimes the gift is found in the unlovely moments that draw me away from myself and closer to God. The unlikely blessings are often the greatest; those that are not to make my life more beautiful to me, but to make me more beautiful to God. Pearls to adorn me with patience. Endurance. Steadfastness. Selflessness. Dependency upon Him.

Counting it all joy....

753....... sour milk smell

754........ slippery baby bath skin

755........ pudgy fingers that wrap around your fingers, and tug both your hair and your heart

756........ children: instant conversation starters

757........ water-fountain pony tails and braids that last only an hour or so

758....... ribbons of every shade

759........ Lincoln Logs in shoes

760........ waking up to a wee one crawling on top of me

761........ squinty smiles

762....... exhaustion at the end of a productive day

763....... exhaustion at the end of a too-short night

764........ bouncing in the back of the church to quiet a rasberry-blowing, happily-squealing baby

765........ girls who want to be like their Mama's

766........ Mama's who want to be like their girls

767........ bouquets in every room

768........ deep belly laughs

769........ the millions of cheek kisses I have given

770....... watching my husband turn into a father

771....... watching my children adore him for it

772....... a table gathered round

773........ not enough chairs

774........ always enough conversation

775........ laughing until you cry

776........ learning as you teach

777......... the back of Andrew's neck

778........ Corynn's perfect ringlets when her hair dries or when it is humid

779....... Adele's droopy ear

780........ Judah's laugh lines

781........ yearning to be a better person for them

782........ compliments on my cooking and third/fourth helpings to prove the point

783....... the soundtrack of my life: singing, giggling, crying, squealing, & animal sounds mixed in

784....... having plenty of happy recipients for my crafty pursuits

785....... hand me down clothes

786....... being too busy

787....... snuggling in with a book

788....... when they always are asking me questions

789....... when I actually know the answers

790........ that first cry

791........ a few freckles here and there

792........ mismatched socks

793........ minivan

794........ four different colored pens in my diaper bag, for when they need a diversion

795........ holding hands across the street or maybe just because

796........ baby food grinders

797......... reliving each and every dream of theirs, both good and bad

798......... talking about them with Matt in bed; they are US, only better

799........ affections freely given without the constraints that come with growing up

800....... new joy each day. Fresh memories. Fun had. Love given. Us, together.

No Children!
by Edgar Guest

No children in the house to play--
It must be hard to live that way!
I wonder what the people do
When night comes on and the work is through,
With no glad little folks to shout,
No eager feet to race about,
No youthful tongues to chatter on
About the joy that's been and gone?
The house might be a castle fine,
But what a lonely place to dine!

No children in the house at all,
No fingermarks upon the wall,
No corner where the toys are piled--
Sure indication of a child.
No little lips to breathe the prayer
That God shall keep you in His care,
No glad caress and welcome sweet
When night returns you to your street;
No little lips a kiss to give--
Oh, what a lonely way to live!

No children in the house! I fear
We could not stand it half a year.
What would we talk about at night,
Plan for and work with all our might,
Hold common dreams about and find
True union of heart and mind,
If we two had no greater care
Than what we both should eat and wear?
We never knew love's brightest flame
Until the day the baby came.

And now we could not get along
Without their laughter and their song.
Joy is not bottled on a shelf,
It cannot feed upon itself,
And even love, if it shall wear,
Must find its happiness in care;
Dull we'd become of mind and speech
Had we no little ones to teach.
No children in the house to play!
Oh, we could never live that way!