Marveling

At home tonight, out in the cold beneath darkened, cloudy sky, I creaked open the Buick's front passenger door to pull out groceries, and froze. As the dome light flooded the faces of my three, sleeping children in the backseat, I couldn't help a long, marveling stare at the lovely little lives I've aided in creating and bringing into the world. Not just that, but in getting them to this point, healthy, strong, clean, and lovely as they are. It's a job I'll never feel equal to or good enough for, or wise or smart enough to do justice to, but it's one I'm very privileged to have, anyway.

A pastor I've long respected said something in a sermon once that set me aflame with silent fury, about mothers who leave their kids with strangers to go pursue money. I understand he spoke of materialistic greed in those who don't need the second income but choose the benefits of it over staying home to care for their own. But it boiled my blood, nevertheless, because I wondered if he had any inkling of how it rips out my heart to walk away from my girls every morning, especially when they're ill or sad or clingy, etc. Knowing it'll be some 9+ hours until I see them again. Knowing how much of their little lives I'm missing out on. A couple weeks ago, while headed to my son's playground to fetch him from after-school childcare, I stopped short in the hall outside his classroom and swallowed down some unshed tears. So much of his life I know nothing of; so much of his daily growth and experiences go unnoticed by me...the fresh realization flooded me with feelings of failure and grief. Of course, I ask about his day each evening, but a minuscule percentage of what happens actually gets verbalized then. And when I learn of the torment and teasing, loneliness and exclusion that he endures, I'm overwhelmed with a desire to do whatever it takes to shield him from the feelings that made me suicidal and severely depressed in my late elementary years.

Still, this is only a season and it too shall pass. Still, my children are wonderful little people, adored and enjoyed by many, so something must be going right. And still, I look at many alternatives for what's happening in their lives and see they're very blessed, and so am I. Thanks for reading.

Blessings,
V