For all the struggles and squabbles, there is a grace to keep going.
The moments when you play legos though you’re “too old” for that. The two, three, four of you down on the carpet, building your colony and being good neighbors.
The spontaneous moments a mom could never plan, when a tug on your sleeve from little brother or sister brings a softening and relenting, when you give in to the playing and the time is quality. Pure quality.
There is grace to keep on when I catch you snuggling during the movie, or when I peek in the door Saturday morning to see you all piled up and listening to Odyssey.
When you read that story together, when you share that memory, laugh at that joke, and even when you join sides in coercive plots against me.
Trust me, I see. Because I’m looking for it, looking and hoping and filling the ears of God with requests for this: that my children would be friends.
And you are.
Friends who live and work and play together almost 24/7 and yes, friends who rub on each other and annoy the heck out of one another sometimes. But friends, nevertheless.
I wonder, and I’m pretty sure, that God cherishes when His kids are friends, too. A mother’s heart comes from the Father.
For every disagreement and stomp of the foot, for every selfishness and self-will and Precious Self, there’s something in the memory to pull out and cherish. I forget a lot of things, but I remember the things I cherish.
And we’re all growing up together, making moments to forget and ones to remember. Here’s to remembering more.
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