Tuesday, August 20, 2013

A Mama's Heart

I remember when I sent the first daughter to her first day of school. The bittersweet celebration of growing up. And how I tried so hard to love that moment and not wish for moments gone by because that moment would only last but for a heartbeat, so quickly replaced by another moment. I remember how she walked so tall and proud and confident. And her mama was so proud. In that moment. Of this girl-child and her growing up.

A mama's heart is a river running swift when school starts. When life changes. And we knew it would. From the moment we heard that first cry, we knew this moment would come. When our children, our hearts walking, would go bravely forth into their small worlds.






















And today my world changed again as I dropped off my twins, daughters two and three, my last, and my heart kicked a little in my chest. And isn't it ironic how we mamas work so hard to prepare our little people for this day, and then when this day finally arrives, we want to stop the flow of time and hold it fast and tight and still.


Perhaps it's because with each first day of school, we are forced to acknowledge that time is passing, we are growing older, our kids are growing older. As much as I'd like to say I embrace growing older with grace, there are days, like today, that my heart beats sad and I want to say to the world: "Stop! Slow down just a little. I'm not done here yet." And time marches on.

Perhaps it's because we can never go back. We can never turn back the clock, back to the day we labored hard and delivered joy, though isn't each day a bit of laboring and delivering one thing or another. But the days of diapers and bottles and cribs and naps have fled us. The days of big alligator tears and tear tracked cheeks have faded dull. And perhaps it's good. That the mamas we were then are not the mamas we are now. Time grows us, too.

I should be glad that my girls were unconcerned when I left them at school today. I should be so glad-happy that they are confident, independent little people, who trust implicitly that their mama will show up later with hugs and kisses and smiles. And their trust humbles me just a little.

Today, instead of wishing hard for the impossible, I will seek the face of Jesus a little harder as I wrestle with time and trust and growing. And today I press harder into the heart of Him who is the keeper of all time.

Grace always Rises,
Jamie

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