In a Place

 

I’m in a place right now…

My first baby or oldest child, whichever way you look at it, is slowly waking up in the big leather chair this morning. This time next year she may be in Costa Rica with Colleen and her family working with St. Bryce Missions. I have this overwhelming desire to watch her sleep or slowly wake up, listen to more of her stories, and invite her to eat chips and salsa more.

My second baby has her eyes firmly fixed on where soccer will take her. If you could compare training and dreaming on the same level scale; she trains as big as she dreams. I want to catch every game and listen to her talk about every training session.

My next baby to round out the “3 Big Girls,” well, I’m not sure she knows…and I want to watch carefully and listen closely. I don’t want to miss the quiet questions or shift in directions of her growing heart and mind.

My first baby boy or oldest boy, depends on how you choose to look at it, just made an “A” on his first ever submitted book report for Seton Homeschool. He’s a middle schooler y’all! When did that happen? I’m struck by the fact I’m not just teaching a boy, I’m training a young man.

My sweet little girl sandwiched in between strong willed brothers. She feels it too, this knowing that time is moving quickly, much faster than we actually perceive. She sees the older girls looking forward to what’s coming next and she tries to catch up in hand me down heels and borrowed lip gloss.

My second grader is also my second baby boy. For some reason, no matter the program or process, pushing or pulling, all my children “get” reading in third grade and their world explodes. From that moment on they are never seen without a book or Kindle in hand. He’s getting there. I love to see the letters begin to make sense and the words begin to form.

My baby…oh my sweet baby. A friend always laughs that we call the 3 year old the baby. But he is and he will tell you…well, maybe not you. He may tell you he’s a big boy, but at night when lays down by me, he tells me he’s my baby “for just a little bit longer.”

I see the 3 year old sitting on the couch in the early morning waking up and blink and see the 17 year old–they are not that far apart.

I’ve struggled this past week with not having anything to say here and at the same time having too much. Since Wednesday I’ve struggled with the phone call about my grandma falling and breaking her femur at the hip. My grandpa fell and broke his hip this summer. I finally just offered myself grace and woke up this morning with these words. I’ve been reading more this past week. I’ve decided to go ahead and purchase the new point and shoot camera I’ve been eyeing. I’ve decided I don’t want to sacrifice the present moment for the future dreams. I realized the other morning while reading Psalm 30 I have a lot to share and say. My mind has been healed–something I’ve never declared so boldly…just in case.  I also realized I will continue to use this little space to continually offer praise and thanksgiving to God.¹ I’ve realized the temptation to stay too quiet here is exactly that, a temptation.

1. Psalm 30:12