As far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a mother. Little did I know back then, that role would far surpass any joy I’ve ever experienced. And that it would rocket my capacity to worry past the moon. I’m pretty sure I can count on one hand the number of nights of uninterrupted sleep I’ve had since my boys were born. And this month they turn 24 and 27!
Mary, on the other hand, knew she was going to lose her son. She knew she was going to give birth to the Lord of heaven and earth, and knew from Jesus himself what was forthcoming. Could you imagine? I’m not sure–no, I am sure–I would never have been able to handle that with such grace, such trust in God, such beauty, as she did. She was the epitome of what a mother should be.
I’ve kept journals for each of my boys until they were 12 years old. I wrote in those journals every day when they were younger, a little less frequently as they got older, but even then, at least a few times a week. I tried to capture the miracle of everything life gave them every single day – the joy, the hurts, the lessons. When I read those journals, it’s like experiencing those magical days of motherhood again. What a miracle! My boys have taught me the definition of real and unconditional love. They’ve taught me how beautiful it is to see life through the eyes of a child. And through it all, they’ve taught me to trust Jesus.
Another miracle of being a mother? I’m a grandmother. And what a joy that is! 🙂
Twenty-three years ago today, March 17th, and twenty-six years ago on March 25th, were two of the best days of my life. The day my boys were born were the days I learned what it means to love completely and unconditionally. Each day spent with my boys from that day forward has been a “best” day.
When my boys were born, I began writing in a journal for each of them, each entry a love letter, that they may never have a single doubt ever in their lifetime about how much they are loved. That they may never for a second doubt their worth. And still, though they’re no longer little boys, there are days when I feel the overwhelming need to express my love, my gratitude to them, and for them, in a love letter that will someday find its way to them.
Every day as mom to these two amazing young men has been a magical journey, one with the most joy and laughter and also the biggest tears. When they’re happy, my heart rejoices. When they’re sad, my heart breaks. I’ve never worried more and I’ve never laughed more. And I wouldn’t trade a single moment of any of those experiences for anything else in the world.
A phone call out of the blue, a random text, hearing their voices say “I Love You, Mom,” and reading and re-reading the cards their little hands have made for me over the years, is the gift that keeps on giving. Over and over and over. And never grows old.
So on the day they were born, the day they celebrate another year older, I celebrate another year of having the privilege of being their mother. Another year of “best” days.