“Lord! Please don’t let me forget this!” The words of my heart pleading and crying out to God as tears run down my face in complete rawness as I look down at my 5-month-old son the same way I looked down at my daughter when she was his age, crying the same tears and screaming out the same plea to the One who is always there. It’s a pain I never want to go away. Not a pain of hurt, but a pain of something you yearn for so badly that you hardly can stand it.
God provides. As much of the memory of how it felt to hold my daughter when she was so little has faded, that moment in our old farmhouse, upstairs in a room we made her nursery, cradling her as I sat on the floor with my back against her changing table, she slept and I cried heavy, heavy tears . . . that moment, I remember so clearly.
I begged God to not let me forget that moment, and he engraved it so deeply in my mind and my heart that I find myself only blessed to experience that moment once again with my son, in our new farmhouse, downstairs in our living room, cradling him as I sit on our couch, feet propped up on the coffee table with only the island lights glowing around us.
How can this life as a momma be so hard yet so beautiful?
I look at my children in complete awe of who they are and who they are growing to be. I see time fleeting past me and all I can do is try to hold on, except the rope keeps slipping out of my hands until I can only catch the last bit of it before it is completely gone.
I pray over my children while also praying for myself. Praying that as they grow and change, that I grow and change with them. I pray I don’t hold them back from their dreams.
I pray my daughter lives a life so fulfilling all I can do is smile proudly.I pray she finds a man who is everything and more to her and he will provide and care for her equally if not better than how her daddy has.
I pray my son grows strong, strong in his beliefs, strong in his abilities, strong in the person God has designed him to be. I pray when he finds a woman who melts him, who encourages him, and who pushes him to be better than he has ever been, I can let go as I should while still holding on to the small bit of rope that will forever connect us.
I pray so many big things for them, so many small details, and I pray they learn from any mistakes.
But in these quiet moments of just me and the baby I am cradling, I pray more than ever that God won’t let me forget them.
So here I go again, crying tears of all things motherhood, praying:
Lord, let me soak in their littleness. Allow peace to overcome me for I know who carries them through this life. Help me raise them and guide them so when my days on this earth are done, they can walk so fervently through life because they know God is always with them and they can look back knowing fully their parents did their best to ensure their children turned out even better than them.
Push me to be still when my babies call out “momma” even if it’s for the millionth time that day. Grant me patience to stop what I am doing and listen to what they have to say because it is so important.
Guide me through this journey of parenthood where giving grace is the best medicine. And help me to nourish not only their bodies but their minds and spirit.
Lord, you have blessed me so deeply that all I can do is give you an abundance of thanks for lending these children to me and trusting me to raise them as you see fit. Thank you, God, for not letting me forget.