For Moms of Young Children

Here is a picture of my older son, with his second son. It's a good father's day picture!


Today I spent some time with a friend and her four young sons. Handsome sons. Busy sons. Sweet sons. Boys who will be men one day!
These boys are blessed to have a mom who spends her days, her engery, her creativity raising them. Sunday they plan to crown their daddy king for the day. Coranations take careful preparation. The boys will be learning to think of others, to show honor, to be grateful for their father on Fathers Day. I bet it will be a ton of fun. Being a good mom takes a lot of work, but it's worth every ounce of love you offer.
Here is a story (from my days of little ones) for all the precious young moms who are working so hard to raise their children. Just a reminder to take time to enjoy the moments because the years go by too fast.

A TIME FOR EVERYTHING

by
Sue Cameron

Not too many pounds ago I was younger, spending my days with four pre-schoolers. Some of those everyday moments were the longest of my life. Once, when I was trying to plug in the fan, I climbed on top of the desk and reached behind it, feeling for the outlet. My arm got stuck there between the wall and the desk. Unable to turn around and look my toddler in the eye, I blindly tried to convince her to stop crying long enough to go for help. I could have asked my four-year- old, but he was too busy laughing.

I didn't laugh the day he painted his window with a whole jar of Vaseline, or the time he used his dad's buzzers to give himself a hair cut. Punk was not in style yet. He's a boy ahead of his time.

Maybe he got that tendency from me. I like to run ahead of God's timing. To rush past the present moment for the future. To sacrifice the now for the will be. I miss the joy of today for the promise of tomorrow.

I think, if I can just get the house clean, this job completed, the taxes done, then I'll have time to enjoy my family. But joy won't be scheduled. It pops in and surprises us at unexpected moments. And if we are unwilling to let go of control, we are unable to grab hold of the joy.

Like the other morning...

I stand with my back toward our youngest, Eric. I'm making sandwiches for lunch pails. He is eating cinnamon toast.

"Do you want something to drink?" I ask over my shoulder. "Some juice or milk?"

No response.

I continue spreading peanut butter. "Did you hear me?" I ask. "Do you want a drink with your toast?"

Still no sound. Here is the moment of choice. Usually I would demand a response from my disrespectful offspring, instead I glance back. I see a limp boy; arm dangling over the back of his chair, eyes dull, head drooping. His posture captures my curiosity before angry words capture my tongue. So I approach him cautiously.

He is definitely unresponsive, but still breathing. Then in a slow, run-down-battery type of voice, he says, "I-I-I'm tu-u-urned o-o-ff."

I reach out and push on his head. "Ding. There."

"No-o-o," corrects the groggy voice, "my-y-y button's in the middle of my bel-l-ly."

I lift his shirt. "Oh, the belly button, huh?" I gently push it. "Ding!"

The eyes light up, the back straightens, the head tilts, "Milk!" he proclaims. I smile and say, "Coming right up."

All day the memory of that encounter delights me. And I think of the countless magic moments I squelch - moments God offers me as a gift. I am challenged to relax a little. To stop rushing past this moment in pursuit of another. To make living and loving, today, my goal. To take time to enjoy my children. For in God's economy there is always time for every good thing.