All day long I am pursued by my children. It’s a constant cacophony of “mama this” and “mama that”. It’s a beautiful sound, no doubt, but also one that can become a bit monotonous… sort of like the drip, drip, drip of a faucet in the middle of the night. Not annoying enough to make you get out of your comfortable, warm spot to turn it off, but just enough to enter the outer realm of thoughts and keep you from a completely deep state of sleep. Still… there’s a certain rhythmic quality about that sound that, if you allow it, can actually lull you to sleep. That’s the way it seems with the chirping of my children this week. Can you tell they are on spring break and we’re all home together!
That constant pursuing by my little chicks is something I bemoan in the moment, but relish and reflect on every night as I tuck them in. How did I get blessed beyond anything I deserve with such precious and perfect children? Why is it that I am the pursued by day, and the pursuer by night? I don’t understand it, truly! All day long, as I am busy tasking, I feel like I am constantly trying to engage them in some worthwhile and enriching activity so that I can slip away to do more chores. But then when it’s time for them to go to bed, I often feel sad to lay them down and wish the day hadn’t gone so quickly. Bedtime is so often the sweetest time of day here at my house. It’s not that the chores are all done, let’s be honest here, that NEVER happens. There’s always another chore to do. And why am I trying to get them entertained so I can do chores during the day anyway? I hate chores and I actually don’t mind playing board games and jumping around on the trampoline. I think I have priority issues! I hope my husband isn’t reading this because I know I’m going to get some lesson in time management whereby I am supposed to prioritize my daily tasks by assigning them a number or some such very consultantesque lesson.
Last night as I was tucking Meg into bed, I was scratching her back and she said at least three times, “tickle back more Mommy.” I couldn't resist her! So I tickled her back a little more and I just can’t help but think of all the thousands of little girls JUST LIKE HER, her exact age, with equal amounts of potential, who are going to bed tonight with no one to tuck them in, kiss them, or even sweep their hair out of their eyes, much less give them one more tickle. Why does it always come back to this for me? Why am I so consumed? Why can't I just tuck in my daughter, enjoy the moment, and not be tortured by the ones who have no mother? I know there are others out there who get my burden for the fatherless, but why am I absolutely PURSUED by it? Why can’t I set it down, even for a minute? Why does it consume me? Why can’t I just tuck my sons in and not be heartbroken over the ones who have no one? What would God have me do with it? I believe it is my call not only to love the orphans, but to raise children who will love them too. But what else? Surely God doesn’t absolutely torment me with this heart of mine just so that I will be reminded to teach my children what I know of the world. What does He want with me? What does He want to do with this ache He won’t release me from?
Maybe He keeps me burning just so I will keep wearing Gwen’s shirts almost every day. Maybe I am supposed to just be a walking billboard. Okay God, I heard YOU, don’t you see I’m wearing the shirt for three days in a row now (hey, I didn't spill or sweat, it's not dirty!)? I don’t know why I am so obsessed with this adorable blue t-shirt (yep, sounds like God’s sense of humor to me, for sure!), maybe I feel better when I am wearing my passion for everyone to see. I don’t feel like I have to carry it solely when I am wearing it. And I wear the beads from Katie’s village almost every day too. I think I might be becoming some crazy lady who talks to herself on the treadmill at the Y (that is, if the Y wasn't so expensive that I refused to continue my membership!) Someone please bring me a glass of wine and turn off the treadmill before I hurt myself!
“Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates.”