So there are these 3 boys.
They've managed to steal my heart.
They call me "Mom".
I love this time of year...
the days and weeks that surround Thanksgiving.
While I wish for us all to open our eyes and arms a little wider
in THANKS and GIVING year round,
it's a beautiful thing to see during this season.
For me, thoughts of thankfulness turn to our 3 boys.
There is more love, more laughter, more kindness, more joy
in our home because of them.
But then, there is also this...
My plane landed in Seattle last Wednesday night at 7:30pm.
Exactly 24 hours later, I found myself hovering over the bathroom toilet,
scrubbing away at a week's worth of germs
while simultaneously dodging blow darts being shot at my backside.
Silently, I decided to take it as a "welcome home" gesture.
For those of us who are "Mom", the title means many things.
We shuttle little girls to piano and ballet,
and endure grocery store trips with screaming babies.
We add the word "step" and share our job with another.
We smile (and cry) when our birds leave the nest,
and wish the difficult issues were as simple as when they were young.
We ride in the truck passenger seat with the boy who...
just before we blinked...
was crawling on the floor in a diaper pushing toy trucks.
If the chair had a rock-o-meter, it would register in the millions,
and we learn that the ability to be up all night and still function the next day
is a God-given gift, although one we're not often thankful for.
We comfort, encourage, scold, teach, lose our patience...
ask forgiveness, defend, love, lose our patience again...
and pray for them more than they'll ever know.
At times over the years, I've taken it for granted...being a mom.
Three pregnancies and three healthy baby boys;
forgetting about so many mamas who wished for just one.
Whining about the endless lineup of work,
rather than being thankful that I'm designed to handle it.
How cool is that?
(not the whining, folks...the other part)
Recently, a friend received news that her daughter's
cancer battle is nearing the end.
After a year of praying for healing,
for a miracle,
she is now asking for prayers of comfort.
I know, and they know, that God loves them,
and that heaven is the best destination ever.
But to consider such loss...
that tells me I cannot possibly take this job for granted.
Not for a moment.
Most of us didn't have an accurate vision of our mom life.
I sure didn't.
Soon we'll build gingerbread houses,
and I know already they will become target practice later this winter.
Boys are weird.
What happened to just eating the stale candy and throwing the rest away?
And come spring, there will be begging to let baby chicks hatch
inside the house again (no in advance, boys).
Every season of the year, along with every season of life,
brings the unexpected
and brings some new things to be thankful for.
There are times we get praised for doing the job of parenting,
and times where we don't feel valued at all.
Society pushes us pretty hard to devote ourselves to ambitious busyness
outside of our families.
But God gives us both a precious gift and responsibility through motherhood.
For all you mamas out there, on this day of Thanksgiving and on every day of the year,
please know you've been given an awesome job;
something to be so very thankful for.
And it's okay if it doesn't come wrapped in pretty packaging everyday.
I have the "welcome home" marks from a blow dart to prove it.
Yes, it's good being "Mom".