The pint-sized sleep over is complete, with every pint-sized person now back into their respective home and bed. The dishes are washed, laundry folded (though not yet put away, but neatly piled on the bench near our bed), beds made, toys put away, and the house is still standing. More importantly, I am still standing alongside my wonderful husband, who even offered to let me escape pee-weeville to attend my weekly Bible study last night. (That only took a mili-second of thought as I dashed out the door, Bible in hand!)
Although I am glad our friends are reunited as a family, the house seems strangely empty. It was almost too quiet this evening. There weren’t enough kids to tuck in, or hands to hold, or hearts to listen to, or prayers to say. Not enough dishes to wash, or books to read, or teeth to inspect, or footsteps to hear pattering overhead.
Don’t misunderstand, I am content with the abundance of children God has gifted to me. But, I know I would welcome more, simply because each child is just that…a precious gift waiting to be discovered. Children change you in ways that only God could plan. They cause you to see things freshly, listen closely, walk quietly, laugh loudly, embrace, rejoice. With each one is a new opportunity to be touched by the Creator and be changed…to be moulded into His image.
There are days I long to be with other adults, in the work place, “accomplishing” something tangible. Days when I long for conversation to be something other than diapers and recipes and home-keeping trivia. But today, I am reminded that this is the work I am called to, this ministry of running noses and bruised knees, of chocolate chip cookies and french toast, of knowing which pair of socks fits best and which blanket “smells like home,” of knowing who needs a hug and who needs a look and who needs to be needed. This is a job no one else could fill. It was tailor made for me by a loving Father.
All is quiet in our home. More importantly, all is quiet in my heart. This heart is full and grateful and rejoicing in being chosen…
Thank You, Father, for choosing this life for me. I know I would not have been courageous to choose it myself. Thank You for making it so clear that this is Your will. Thank You for my children and their friends…In Jesus’ Name, Amen.