I’ve been exhausted. Growing a person is no easy task. October was full and fun. Through morning sickness that didn’t end in the morning and fatigue that covered like a thick cloud, I marveled at where we had been and where we were going.
A two year old.
A four year old.
A peanut being knit together.
I wanted to write many days but when the babies were quiet I was quiet. When they were resting I snuggled up in my favorite pillow and closed my eyes.
It’s in these still seconds that I think about what I thought was to be and what will really be. I imagine a little sweet head to smell and then I pray that this one will love to sleep. I imagine the gripping of a precious hand around my finger and at the same time I whisper, “Lord, don’t forget me.”
Just a week before the two lines turned pink I told my friend who was coaching me along as I ran how excited I was for my eight hours a week. The Bug would be in Kinder, the Little Man in a couple days of preschool and I would have eight hours.
I would work in classrooms.
I would write.
I would lead something.
I would use those hours to do whatever God was asking me to do.
And, I was so excited.
As my belly rounds quickly, more quickly than I might like, I dialogue with God.
“I’m so very grateful for this little life.”
“I want to serve you.”
“I know that this season at home with my kids is part of that. I’m so grateful for it.”
“But, please don’t forget me.”
“I trust You.”
Staying home with small children is a huge ministry. And, this season has been the best season of my life. It’s been a season of reshaping. Clay on a wheel, everyday. I have seen my weaknesses more than ever. I have realized what my strengths truly are. I have grown up. I know my Jesus more today than ever before and the greatest thing I’ve learned is that I still have so much to learn. My babies have taught me what it means to surrender everyday. And, the days I dig my heels in the ground and selfishly cling to what I want are the worst. I have learned the truth of mercies being new in the morning. Those words are real and heavy for a mama who finds herself desperate for them. I devour them as I wake back up with another chance to breathe in a new day.
It’s certain that I don’t know what the next year will look like. With my heavy eyelids slamming down in a quiet moment I imagine three little people to love and nurture. I don’t know how it will look this time and I don’t know how much sleep we will get or lose.
But I do know this...my very human moments of “don’t forget me’s” are really reminders that He hasn’t forgotten me and will never ever. Staying home with my little ones in this season has been part of the rising action of my story. Others stories may look totally different. This is mine. And I'm learning that everyday I have the opportunity to wake up expecting the goodness of God to overflow into the messy, painful, funny, exhausting and lovely.
He hasn’t forgotten me yet and I know He won’t. In the midst of lullabies, diapers and play-dough He has revealed Himself. I am better for His Kingdom because of these things. So, today, I tell Him again, “I trust You and I surrender.”
Let Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven...that is my prayer.