What I Want For My Kids

There is so much I want for my kids. The list could be infinite. I could name a gazillion things that I want them to know, do, learn. I could write a million words on how I want them to behave, respect their elders, strive for greatness, walk in integrity.  I want so many things for my kids. Good things.  Maybe even Godly things. But all of that good stuff doesn't amount to anything valuable without Christ.

In talking with seasoned mommies and mommies in the same phase of chaos as me, I have realized this mess doesn't get easier. These little years of chaos aren't even necessarily the hardest work. These little years are the grunt work, to be sure. "The World's Dirtiest Jobs" really should do a piece on stay at home moms (and also preschools workers because, bless). I have to bust my tail to make sure all these blonde heads are fed something beside ketchup as their only vegetable and strawberry ice cream as their only dairy with a little fruit. I work hard to make sure they go through their day with clean tushies and clean noses. I regularly pick up the brown thing off the floor and smell it in hopes that it is just chocolate, or, at worst, a hardened raisin. I step in puddles of yuck in the bathroom. I constantly answer questions. Constantly! I take little boys to play golf, a game for which I have very little interest.  I paint toenails and brush hair. I help with homework. I break up fights. And maybe I get a shower. At the end of the day when this introverted momma wants to crawl in a hole and hibernate for the winter (read: next 18 years), I finish up the dishes, tuck my little ones in bed, lay my hands on them and beg God to move in their lives.

Full blown 2 year old temper tantrum.

This season is hard. As the saying goes: The days are long, but the years are short. God has blessed me with women in my life who have older children, women who have just shipped their babies across the world for college, women who have walked a mile in my shoes. They have raised kids in literal war zones while their husbands were out ministering to mis-placed war refugees. They have shepherded their kids as they walked through learning a new language and living in a new culture far away from grandparents, a strong local church (with child care! Hello!) and the latest video games. I have had the immense privilege of watching them raise amazing kids who love Jesus with their whole hearts. And they have earned every right to say to me, "Cherish your time with your little ones. It goes by fast." Those words are not only a tender reminder that I only have a little while to hold my babies as they fall asleep and to play hide and seek with them around the house but they are also a reminder that I only have a little while to tell them all the things I want them to know. To teach them to be kind and respectful. To make sure they know that I love them, that I am for them. To teach them to obey the One who made them. To teach them to throw their hands in the air and dance in worship and hit their knees in prayer on the good days and the bad days. 

And so the conversations when we all get together and agree that this mothering thing is way harder than we could have ever dreamed when we were pushing around plastic strollers filled with Cabbage Patch Kids are good and helpful. I have no doubt that the conversations about diapers, potty training, temper tantrums, and sleepless nights will turn into conversations about puberty (bleh!), dating, curfews and colleges. We will go from being physically exhausted to being emotionally spent. It's what moms do, I suppose, on account of all the love--the sweet, deep, painful, terrifying love. Because I love them so deeply, I want to instill in them all the good things. But every night when I pray for them, sometimes the only thing I can muster the strength to ask is Lord, let them be found in You. Abide in them. Get ahold of their hearts and don't let go. And don't let them let go of You.  

Amen.

The end. 

Because all the knowledge and musical talent, all the golf and soccer practices, all the kindness to siblings and good grades will pass away. But Jesus remains forever. So, I will do my hardy best to instill in them all the good things and try not lose my temper when I step in the yellow puddles. And I will pray that down the road when I am looking at the young momma who is has no make-up on and whose hair is a mess, I can know that my big grown-up babies are walking in the power of the resurrection of our Savior, Jesus  O that they may taste and see that He is good. That they will be made alive together with Him. Oh that He will be their all in all! Let them gain Christ and be found in Him. That's all I really want for my kids.