I write this with a heavy heart in response to the Sandy Hook shootings.
An Angel's Prayer
Dear Teddy, who's guarded my sleep all these years, please snuggle my Mommy and catch all her tears.
Dear Pillow, that still holds the scent of my hair, please comfort my Daddy and let him feel me near.
Dear Blanket, that has tucked me in cozy and tight, please warm their hearts on this darkest of nights.
Dear Snow, that falls on a grief stricken face, please help her feel kisses you give in my place.
Dear Daddy, who could always quiet my fears, please know that I'm fine and finished with tears.
Dear Mommy, who held my hands and my heart, please know that I'm here though we seem far apart.
Dear Savior, Who's welcomed me home with such love, Please give them the peace from our Father Above.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Friday, November 9, 2012
Misadventures of Excess Verbage
My folly in writing this is that I feel it will be too short to justify a blog entry but far too long for a status update.
It has been a difficult month at our house, we have had stomach flu, pink eye, and ear infections all while Daddy was traveling. The result was several weeks stuck at home, surrounded by children who didn't feel well. People have needed me every hour of the day and night. I haven't had many waking moments of peace and I have felt a little (putting it very mildly) frustrated.
Finally, today, I took a day to myself. I had a playdate with my Mommy and my sister in law. At the end of a wonderful day, I found myself making the 50 mile drive home in the midst of a bad snowstorm. Driving, with my jeep in the slow lane, I noticed that all of the other cars were flying past me. I got to thinking about what I was going home to. I would find my husband who would welcome me home with a kiss, but would probably grab my bum, because he can't do one without the other. There would be four children, clamouring to tell me about their day or the mistreatment they received from their siblings or maybe a new episode of their favorite cartoon. I would have at least two children fighting over my lap wanting me to read them a story. I would probably hear some complaints about their chores. I would find that none of their chores had been done. I would hear, "Hey, Mom!" at least 57 times before I was able to finish tucking them into bed. As these thoughts came to my mind, I found myself driving just a little bit slower through the snow. I wasn't, however, driving slower because I was dragging my feet, I was slowing down because I was going home to so much love that I wanted to make sure that I got there safely.
Many of my dear friends have been expressing their gratitude this Thanksgiving season and I have been reticent because many of the things that I feel grateful for may seem trivial to others. Tonight, though, I feel that I need to express my gratitude. I am grateful for the chaos, the noise, and the maddening joy that is my life.
It has been a difficult month at our house, we have had stomach flu, pink eye, and ear infections all while Daddy was traveling. The result was several weeks stuck at home, surrounded by children who didn't feel well. People have needed me every hour of the day and night. I haven't had many waking moments of peace and I have felt a little (putting it very mildly) frustrated.
Finally, today, I took a day to myself. I had a playdate with my Mommy and my sister in law. At the end of a wonderful day, I found myself making the 50 mile drive home in the midst of a bad snowstorm. Driving, with my jeep in the slow lane, I noticed that all of the other cars were flying past me. I got to thinking about what I was going home to. I would find my husband who would welcome me home with a kiss, but would probably grab my bum, because he can't do one without the other. There would be four children, clamouring to tell me about their day or the mistreatment they received from their siblings or maybe a new episode of their favorite cartoon. I would have at least two children fighting over my lap wanting me to read them a story. I would probably hear some complaints about their chores. I would find that none of their chores had been done. I would hear, "Hey, Mom!" at least 57 times before I was able to finish tucking them into bed. As these thoughts came to my mind, I found myself driving just a little bit slower through the snow. I wasn't, however, driving slower because I was dragging my feet, I was slowing down because I was going home to so much love that I wanted to make sure that I got there safely.
Many of my dear friends have been expressing their gratitude this Thanksgiving season and I have been reticent because many of the things that I feel grateful for may seem trivial to others. Tonight, though, I feel that I need to express my gratitude. I am grateful for the chaos, the noise, and the maddening joy that is my life.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Misadventures of Family Love
My folly this time was having a birthday. However, I don't think that there is any way out of that one without saying that I wish I had never been born. That seems a trifle over dramatic, so perhaps I should say that my folly was expecting my family to be other than it is.
There is nothing quite like a birthday to show you exactly how much you mean to your family. Yesterday afternoon, I told my sweet children that the very best birthday gift would be for them to do their chores without me having to hound them into it. Austin , in a voice reminiscent of Nicole asking why she had to wash the juicer, said, "But, M-o-o-o-m, you already got your gift." I really had to rack my brain over that one, as I couldn't remember getting any gifts other than the weekend trip that Rick had taken me on. With great exasperation, Austin reminded his obviously ungrateful Mother about the chocolate covered strawberries that he brought home from church. Now, chocolate covered strawberries (with a delightful creamy center) would not usually be a gesture that I would ignore. Perhaps some of the tremendous love that he was showing slipped my mind due to the fact that he dislikes strawberries. His primary teachers had given him the strawberries for an Easter treat and, disliking it, he came home and gave it to me. Judging by the fact that it took many arguments and much hounding to get the chores done, my worth is exactly that of disliked strawberries.
P.S. To anyone reading this post, I actually love chocolate covered strawberries. I guess that I shouldn't judge the motive behind the gesture.
There is nothing quite like a birthday to show you exactly how much you mean to your family. Yesterday afternoon, I told my sweet children that the very best birthday gift would be for them to do their chores without me having to hound them into it. Austin , in a voice reminiscent of Nicole asking why she had to wash the juicer, said, "But, M-o-o-o-m, you already got your gift." I really had to rack my brain over that one, as I couldn't remember getting any gifts other than the weekend trip that Rick had taken me on. With great exasperation, Austin reminded his obviously ungrateful Mother about the chocolate covered strawberries that he brought home from church. Now, chocolate covered strawberries (with a delightful creamy center) would not usually be a gesture that I would ignore. Perhaps some of the tremendous love that he was showing slipped my mind due to the fact that he dislikes strawberries. His primary teachers had given him the strawberries for an Easter treat and, disliking it, he came home and gave it to me. Judging by the fact that it took many arguments and much hounding to get the chores done, my worth is exactly that of disliked strawberries.
P.S. To anyone reading this post, I actually love chocolate covered strawberries. I guess that I shouldn't judge the motive behind the gesture.
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