Only one constant
/
He stroked my hair as we laid on the rug together. In the quiet, listening to the relentless wind and the quiet, distant noise of his Daddy upstairs reading to the two oldest. He stroked my hair and studied my face and spoke softly, in that precious 2 year old voice of his, "You beautiful, Mama. You beautiful." I couldn't swallow.
Eyes closed I focused on the feel of his hand running through the handful of my hair hanging down in his face.
I climbed in his bed with him to sing and pray. When I stood back up I handed him all his little belongings that he adores so entirely. He took the gauzy white blanket printed with red goldfish out of my hands and rubbed it on his cheek gently. "Don't like it, mama. No more fish blanky." Again, I couldn't swallow. I didn't let him see my wet, filling eyes.
Across the stairway in his brother's room I kissed them both goodnight, sang and prayed.
So cliché.
So cliché to say "cherish each moment". I tire from hearing more seasoned mother's tell me this, with desperation in their voice as they watch my three oldest boys swarm like tornadoes around me in the grocery store.
So cliché, but OH so true.
HOLD it with an iron grip. Study each little face, each little toe, each little soft and curled ear.
The patterns of their hair make my heart hop. The intricate designs in the beautifully and masterfully colored parts of their eyes are quenching for my ever growing desire for beauty in creativity. Every detail of their perfectly formed hands, already telling countless tales of exploration and discovery.
Some nights I come up after laying awake in bed.
IJust to see them again. To be sure they are covered. To be sure they are safe.
If we could just keep now. If it would all just halt.
How many times I've thought that. That time could stop. But it marches on.
Each boy with his distinct smell.
Each boy with his delicately mapped out and formed body. Formed in my body.
Soak them up
Breath them in
Hold them tight
Love them hard
How intense His love must be for us.
His perfect love.
My love is so entirely flawed. Flawed and conditional and irrational.
His perfect love.
Just let Him.
Let Him.
Soak you up
Breath you in
Hold you tight
Love you hard
And do it back.
Soak HIM up
Breath HIM in
Hold HIM tight
Love HIM hard
His perfect love.
His flawless, desperate love.
Jesus.
Eyes closed I focused on the feel of his hand running through the handful of my hair hanging down in his face.
I climbed in his bed with him to sing and pray. When I stood back up I handed him all his little belongings that he adores so entirely. He took the gauzy white blanket printed with red goldfish out of my hands and rubbed it on his cheek gently. "Don't like it, mama. No more fish blanky." Again, I couldn't swallow. I didn't let him see my wet, filling eyes.
Across the stairway in his brother's room I kissed them both goodnight, sang and prayed.
So cliché.
So cliché to say "cherish each moment". I tire from hearing more seasoned mother's tell me this, with desperation in their voice as they watch my three oldest boys swarm like tornadoes around me in the grocery store.
So cliché, but OH so true.
HOLD it with an iron grip. Study each little face, each little toe, each little soft and curled ear.
The patterns of their hair make my heart hop. The intricate designs in the beautifully and masterfully colored parts of their eyes are quenching for my ever growing desire for beauty in creativity. Every detail of their perfectly formed hands, already telling countless tales of exploration and discovery.
Some nights I come up after laying awake in bed.
IJust to see them again. To be sure they are covered. To be sure they are safe.
If we could just keep now. If it would all just halt.
How many times I've thought that. That time could stop. But it marches on.
Each boy with his distinct smell.
Each boy with his delicately mapped out and formed body. Formed in my body.
Soak them up
Breath them in
Hold them tight
Love them hard
How intense His love must be for us.
His perfect love.
My love is so entirely flawed. Flawed and conditional and irrational.
His perfect love.
Just let Him.
Let Him.
Soak you up
Breath you in
Hold you tight
Love you hard
And do it back.
Soak HIM up
Breath HIM in
Hold HIM tight
Love HIM hard
His perfect love.
His flawless, desperate love.
Jesus.