In the meantime, here is something I wrote a few days back. I opened a text document, and the words just starting blasting out of me. I've held this thought in for days, this idea of "intentional mothering" - which can apply to all of my roles, really. Intentional wife, intentional Christian, intentional friend. I'm pasting it here; it's not new information, but it's something to fill the page, at least as full as my mind has been lately...
Intentional mothering is a term I read the other day that absolutely struck a chord within me. I have four children, ranging in age from 2 to 8. Days can fly by in a blur – the day begins early and before I know it, I'm tucking children in, and wondering if I poured anything into their lives today. Yes, I spoke with each child. Yes, we spent time together at some point throughout the day. But was any of our interaction meaningful? Did I say anything to them today that enriched their lives? That pointed them towards God? That built character? So often, the answer is no.
I am motivated to become a more intentional mother. As I walk beside my daughter down a shopping aisle, I make a calculated decision to take her hand and talk to her about her day, asking questions about the things she seemed to enjoy most. As I drive in the car, with all four children buckled in behind me, we turn off the music and I repeat a scripture verse to them that's been on my heart, and we talk about how it applies to us. When I come in from the grocery, and I want to push everything into the fridge and go sit down for a half hour, I think about their little feet rushing off the bus this afternoon, into the front door, backpacks hitting the ground in the middle of the living room, and hearing their voices, “I'm hungry!” If I spend that half hour washing and cutting up all the fruit I purchased today, instead of plopping myself down, then they will enjoy that goodness when they come home. Intentionally making choices that put them first, that enrich their lives - I want to give them all that I have to give as their mother.
Years are flying by us like a rushing river. I am painfully aware of their growth as I do their laundry, and my son's jeans are almost as long as my own. They won't always be little babies, always under my care and influence. They are stretching out their necks, like the little seedlings I plant in the spring, unfurling and looking around themselves with a sense of wonder of the world. Don't grow yet, little babies! my heart screams at them. But grow they will, and every moment must be savored. I must make intentional choices to give them the best part of me, to impart what I know. I pray that I give them enough during these formative years, so that when they mature, they still look to their parents for Godly wisdom, but that they seek God first, and that they make intentional choices to show Christ's love to other people.
I want to make every minute count.