Mother’s Day will arrive in just a few days. It’s a time when children and spouses give gifts to the moms in their lives. I’ve always thought that was a little bit backwards. I’m the one who has been blessed beyond measure by being a mom. I feel like I should be the one giving the gifts out of gratitude for the joy my children have brought to me.
Being a mom is one of the best jobs in the world—and also one of the toughest. I’m reminded of one of the lines from my Just 18 Summers novel, “The years are long but the seasons are short.” There’s a lot of truth to that.
I remember those days when my three sons were little. There were times when I was so exhausted that I wondered if I’d live long enough to see the boys reach adulthood—days when I’d have given my house away for eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.
There were long nights when I cared for sick children, dispensing medicines and hugs, praying for God to break their fevers and to help them feel better. And I won’t even start on the seemingly endless months we dealt with colic.
I remember days when it seemed like piles of laundry towered halfway to heaven, and no matter how many loads I washed, the piles never seemed to diminish. No matter how many times I cleaned the house and picked up the toys, it seemed it never stayed that way for more than five minutes.
I suggested to my husband (only halfway joking) that we might want to consider camouflage carpet and handprint-pattern wallpaper for the stairwell because our dirt-magnet boys left souvenirs behind every time they went up and down the stairs.
Can any of you moms relate?
I mean, why would any woman choose to be a mom if it means dealing with all those not-so-pleasant situations? Well, let me tell you why—it’s because in the midst of all those moments, God sends amazing sweetness, and each season is precious beyond words.
I’ll never forget the memories of a fresh-from-the-bath baby sleeping in my arms, of stroking my fingers across velvety-soft skin and through downy hair as I gazed at the perfection that God had loaned to me. How could I ever forget how my heart melted when my tiny son’s arms and legs kicked with excitement whenever I walked into the room or the joy of watching his first steps as he wobbled across the floor?
What precious memories of my rosy-cheeked toddler laughing as he rode on his daddy’s shoulders, of kneeling beside his bed for nighttime prayers and tucking him in with hugs and kisses. Oh my, those seasons went by way too fast!
The snapshots in my heart bring back memories of my sweet-faced little boy standing at the front door with a bouquet of flowers he’d picked from the yard for me. How desperately I wanted to freeze-frame those moments. But I couldn’t.
And then it was time for him to start kindergarten. Yes, there were tears that day. Not his, mine. It was hard to start letting go!
We packed the seasons as tightly as we could with our family gathered around campfires, catching fireflies and playing countless games of ball in the yard or the driveway. We celebrated holidays and piled everyone in the car for vacations. We made memories, blew out birthday candles and watched as the years flew by much faster than we wanted.
It only seemed like a day or two had gone by and our son turned 13. How could he be a teenager already? And then it seemed like we only blinked once or twice and he was getting his driver’s license. How in the world could that be happening already?
The seasons seemed like they went by at warp speed, and soon we wiped away tears as our son walked across the platform for his high school diploma…and four years later across another stage for his college diploma.
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And then a special girl entered his life—the girl we’d prayed for since before he was born—and months later we fought back tears as he kissed his bride. Tears of joy for them and tears of sadness for us because our least favorite season had arrived—the one for him to leave us.
For those of you whose children are still at home, I hope you won’t mind if an old grandma gal reminds you to slow down and squeeze the moments. They go by so fast! We truly have just 18 summers before our children leave home—and each season is precious beyond words.
I can’t imagine my life without my sons. How blessed I’ve been to be their mama. So today I’d like to thank God for the gift of motherhood.
And I’d like to wish a Happy Mother’s Day to all of you moms out there. I think you’ll all agree with me that being a mom is one of the best gifts ever!
Dear Father, Thank you for the gift of our children. Help us to make family a priority, to savor the moments, to teach our children about You, and to make some memories. Amen.
