So God Made a Mother Collection ➔

His legs, long and lean, seem to take up half the room, stretching off the couch and across the skinny coffee table in front of him. His feet, bigger now than his dad’s, much bigger than mine, are crossed at the ankles. I remember those same legs, short and chubby, sticking straight out from his highchair, swinging them while he gummed his banana and watched me in the kitchen. A long time ago.  

In this room, he turns the pages of a book, silently gobbling up words and stories off the page, his long smooth fingers reaching over absently to floss through the dog’s fur. Words and words and words stack up behind his eyes, filing themselves into an unseen order in his mind, building paths and patterns and memories and pictures, so much uncharted room for thoughts to roam in the paths of his fascinating brain.

RELATED: And Then, He’s 14

I remember him walking toward me with his book of choice, climbing into my lap, his face turned up toward mine. I read words and words and words, repetition carving their way into his map of memory, his fingers pointing and his little voice filling in when I skipped a word.

Feels like a moment ago I could smell his baby shampoo.  

In this room, he mumbles a comment every once in a while as he reads, how much he likes the song playing on the speaker, how good this page is in his book, how much he likes the ice cream I bought, and could I please buy some more? I listen and am finally adjusting to the sound of his new voice after months of looking around surprised a man was talking in the house somewhere when my husband wasn’t home. 

RELATED: He’s Right in Front of Me, But Sometimes I Miss My Son

For a long time, my ears remained perked and searching for the sweet, high music of his little boy voice. I’m starting to forget what he sounded like exactly. This makes me have a flash of panic, and I remind myself that somewhere deep in my memory the sound of his little voice is there, stored in my own files, in my own mind. 

I go back to watching his fingers turn the page, and I remember the first time I saw them, a wand gliding over my belly, picking up the movements of those same hands, watching what he was up to underneath my very skin. So. Long. Ago.  

In moments like this, I could drink him.  

In moments like this, I thank God for the magic of memory.  

RELATED: I Never Knew I Would Be So Lonely Raising Teenagers

In moments like this, I could go deeper and deeper and deeper. I could think about the miracle of him, how he shines like a star in the sky of my life, but instead, today, I’ll just sit here and watch him over my glasses and enjoy the view.  

And I think he grew in the time it took me to write these words.

Shannon Wilson

Shannon Wilson was born, raised and is still living in North Carolina, where she enjoys being sandwiched perfectly between the beach and the mountains. She lives happily with husband and son, otherwise known as “her boys,” and their geriatric poodle, Lucy. Shannon’s passion is to write and speak about the riches of God’s Word and encourage women to live out the Gospel in their daily lives. She loves reading, coffee, shopping, adding just one more accessory to her outfit, and spending time with her family. Connect with her on Twitter or intstagram @shannonhw, or at http://www.shannonhwilson.com/about

Motherhood is the Great Uniter

In: Motherhood
Mom with child silhouette

Connection. It’s something that we all need right now. I knew that when I became a mother, I would be joining the ranks of fellow moms in my family, my workplace, my community. But what I didn’t know is the sense of camaraderie I would form with motherly figures I will never meet. On one particularly stressful day during the newborn stage, I had this unshakeable thought: I am not the first—nor will I be the last—mom to survive this. As I toyed with the idea of mothers existing all over the globe, long before my time, the entire history...

Keep Reading

Going on Family Vacation with Young Kids is Work That’s Worth It

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mom with two young kids on airplane

Our routine will be a mess. Our toddler won’t sleep in a new environment. Our baby needs all of the gear. The flight could be a disaster. I went through a mental checklist of reasons why this kind of family vacation would be hard. It was a pretty convincing list if I’m being honest. I considered throwing a pity party dedicated to the concerns I shoulder as a mother. A few days later I felt a wave of conviction wash over me. I was dreading a trip that was meant to be a blessing to our family. Any kind of...

Keep Reading

One Child, One Moment, One Memory at a Time

In: Motherhood
Mother with toddler girl smiling

As I sit and watch my girls play in the water at our cabin, I can’t help but smile. Their laughter, their smiles, their pure JOY for the simplest of life’s pleasures- enjoying mother nature-is palpable. But so is my anxiety. For every moment I’m watching them play, I fear it’s a moment that will too soon become a memory. An experience gone too quickly, for I so desperately want to keep them little. You see when I hear things such as, “I only have ____ summers left with my child at home,” I go into total panic mode. It...

Keep Reading

Separating Work From Home is a Must For Me

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mom with baby smiling

If I close my eyes and let myself, I can still see the 11-year-old boy with his pale feet sticking out from under the blanket, on his way to the morgue after a gun accident.   If I close my eyes and let myself, I can still see the still, blue form of the 3-month-old who passed away in his sleep. We gave CPR and all the medicines “just in case,” but that baby was gone long before his caregiver brought him in through the door. If I close my eyes and let myself, I can still see the 3-year-old...

Keep Reading

Your Son Won’t Care About Decorating His Dorm Room

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
College boy in dorm room

  ‘Tis the season for dorms for those of us whose children are in college. You may be designing, planning, and buying dorm essentials because the decorating has begun; physically or mentally, it’s happening. And here’s what I’ve learned: boys don’t care. That’s right, boys don’t care what their rooms look like. OK, that may be a bit of an overstatement, but trust me, it’s not that far off the mark. Last year, I remember scrolling through my newsfeeds admiring my friends’ daughters’ room pictures. Everything was color coordinated, and I mean EVERYTHING–even the Command hooks stringing up the fairy...

Keep Reading

When Teens Are Hard to Love, You Love Them Harder

In: Faith, Motherhood, Teen
Teen boy sitting with hood up

I lay face down on the floor, praying. Praying in the loosest sense of the word. Praying in the Romans 8:26 way—you know, when the Spirit “intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” Because I could not utter any actual coherent thoughts at that point. I was weary and beaten down. Day after day I had been in combat, battling an opponent I didn’t anticipate: one of my children. My own child, one of the people I had lovingly grown inside my body and loved sacrificially for all these years, had staunchly and repeatedly put himself in opposition...

Keep Reading

I Want To Raise Good Sisters

In: Kids, Motherhood
Four girls sitting on a rock in the forest, color photo

My current dilemma: how to teach four little girls how to be good sisters when I have no idea what I’m doing? I was an only child growing up, and a tomboy at that. It was a lonely, quiet childhood. I remember wishing for a sister, but knowing that with my single mom, it wasn’t going to happen. So, the sister thing is a big mystery to me. I’ve noticed (admittedly with some envy) adult sisters together and their inside jokes, shared history, and language known only to each other. I’ve read about sisters in books. The relationships between the four...

Keep Reading

I Don’t Just Love You, I Like You

In: Kids, Motherhood
Young boy standing at bridge, color photo

My growing child, my heart often aches when I look at how big you have gotten. You aren’t a baby anymore, you’re a whole kid. You are your own person, with your own thoughts and feelings. You have your own friendships, and interests.  Parts of me realize you don’t need me the same, but deep down I know you need me all the same. And I’m realizing, that in all of these changes, my love for you is also a like.  RELATED: Being Your Mom is the Greatest Honor of My Life Because now we can connect in a whole...

Keep Reading

We’re Learning to Be Just the Two of Us (And It’s Fun!)

In: Grown Children, Marriage, Motherhood
Couple cooking in kitchen

My husband and I have been married for 23 years and we have never spontaneously gone four hours away to anything, much less a concert.  When we got married, we both brought daughters into the marriage, and three years later, we had a son. We were a family of five. In our 23 years of marriage, it had never been just the two of us. There were always ballgames, concerts, school awards, etc that kept us busy and split between two places if not three. After the girls both left the house for college, we still had our son. While...

Keep Reading

Dear Kindergartner, I’ll Always Remember You This Way

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother and child touch foreheads

The first magical flickers of your strong heartbeat on a black and white screen— the reassuring evidence I needed to know you were gaining strength for this world. My belly grew, and I proudly went shopping for maternity clothes to cover it. I felt the first dances of your little feet, and it reminded me of butterflies taking flight— the movement of a true miracle. I’ll always remember you this way. The sounds of your first cries—music ringing in my ears. You were real, Earth-side, and wanting only to be loved. The softness of your skin, the way you smelled,...

Keep Reading