A stillness settled over the house as we gave hugs, kisses and tucked three children into bed.
Children - even the word seems childish as I tuck 3 tall bodies into beds made for grown ups.
Two boys, and then a girl. The girl. She’s taken her rightful place as younger sister to two big brothers. She can hold her own in an argument, but will ask her brothers for a hug every morning and every night. She lets the oldest one give her a piggy-back ride up the stairs, and she lets the older one brush her hair (only on rare occasions, but it has happened).
Only the nighttime lights shine - all other upstairs lights have been turned off for the night. There is the faint glow from night lights and the beautiful twinkle of lights across her headboard. And as we tuck her in, there are promises for new adventures tomorrow, reminders of how much Jesus loves us, the reminder that while she may be the younger sister to two big brothers, she’s still my little girl.
“I just can’t resist you. I need to give you one more hug,” she says.
I’m a lot of things to many people in this world
- daughter, sister, wife, mom, friend, teacher, helper, encourager -
but there is not another soul on this earth who tells me, almost daily, that they just can’t resist me.
As it turns out, I can’t resist her wild grin and her face framed by little ringlets, begging for just one more hug and kiss goodnight.
Irresistible motherhood.
Scratchy throats, runny noses, coughs and sneezes. These have been unwelcomed visitors in our home the past few days.
The stillness of bedtime was just settling into every corner of the house.
My mind wanders: It used to be that she would sleep with so many stuffed animals in her crib that she hardly had room for herself.
Feet on the stairs, interrupting the stillness.
A small hand, holding tightly to Raggedy Ann. Complaints of the sore throat, and asking for the dreaded spray that might bring relief. Reaching, no grabbing desperately, for my hand to hold while I administered the awful-tasting, throat-soothing spray. I couldn’t say no.
Irresistible motherhood.
A lifetime of pink and purple that we never expected, wrapped up into the first 7.5 years of her life.
No more cribs, no more rails on the side to keep her in the bed, just reminders of how quickly time flies, everywhere I look.
Long, wavy hair, chapter books on the shelves, praise music in the CD player. Fewer “little girl toys” and a room taken over by toys that big girls like.
More hair accessories than I’ve ever owned in my whole life. More stuffed dogs than I’ve ever seen, because she “was made to love dogs” and so I can’t help but buy them for her.
And she comes down to ask me for help when she’s got a need.
I’m pretty sure that, in the grand scheme of things, while I’m curing sore throats and holding scared hands, I’m actually the one receiving the blessing.
Because really, this part of my life can be summed up in two words:
Irresistible Motherhood.
Dear Weary Mom, you do so much, as a mother. I know of the school schedules, the kids’ appointments, the laundry, the homework, the cooking, the cleaning. You give and give, until it feels like there’s nothing more to give. And then you dig down deep and give some more anyway. But, sweet friend, who is taking care of you?
Dear Weary Mom, please make sure you are taking care of you. As moms, we’re so quick to lend a hand, help a friend or family member, clean up a child’s battle wound, speak soothing words over our husbands when they have had a tough day. But moms, make sure you’re taking time for your heart as well!
But what about the spiritual level? We can’t see or know what’s going on in the spiritual realm. We didn’t create the spiritual level, we can’t control anything that goes on in that realm like we can in the physical realm.
That verse is full of such promise - not a promise of prosperity or riches, but a promise that God will meet us where we are, and provide for our needs.
Moms, take your eyes off of others, and fix them only on God. Stop comparing your family to anyone else’s family; God is calling us all to different things, so it does not make sense to compare. Only measure your family against what God is calling you to, and ask God for more of Himself in your family, and in your mothering.
But then, there’s this guy - see that face? I know - I can hardly see it either. We have spent the 9 years since he was born, trying to help him in one way or another. From early feeding issues, to a then-unknown speech and language problem, to wondering if he could actually hear or not, to countless nights where he couldn’t (or sometimes, wouldn’t) sleep - we have been there. 
And so I started to gather his clothes for camp yesterday. We talked about outfits, getting his clothes back into the bag at the end of the day, how to decide what to wear on his feet, to put on a sweatshirt if he was chilly, that all his clothes and items will be labeled. 
