My children are growing like crazy. I realize this is not a scientific discovery to shake our world as we know it but it’s still a big deal to me. For one thing, their legs all seem super long. It’s getting a bit scrunchy in a twin bed to read stories at night, which is nothing but fantastic as this forces them to let me hug them and say stuff to embarrass them like, “Your feet are enormous!” and “I can’t believe you’ve stopped drooling on your pillow! You’re so grown up!”
In addition to long limbs, all three of them are becoming shockingly verbal. This sounds great and often is. I’m sure I’ll be thrilled the day they take their SATs. It can also be problematic (particularly since we’re still working on voice volume in public) and a wee bit irritating in small enclosed spaces.
But as I’m watching all this growth occur before my eyes, I feel this not-so-gentle tapping in my spirit, as if God is reminding me all the time to watch and listen, to soak up this season and feel every bit of the beauty and grace and longing and sadness. Our little familial world seems to change just a degree or two on its axis every day and when I start panicking about things moving too quickly, I feel that spirit-tap again, nudging me to pipe down and listen up. To take a deep breath when my day begins with a plunger and rubber gloves and ends with blotting red paint out of our carpet. (Honestly, I didn’t speak so kindly to the spirit-tap that day. That was a rough day.)
I know these days are fleeting. I can tell just by the super long legs around here. How I love these babes. What gifts they are to me! Oh, God of grace, let me treat time as precious and limited. I’m so grateful for this time, God, even the plunger days. Really, I am. You are so good to let me live this adventure with these people. Thank you for this abundance of good and perfect gifts.