Two short weeks and counting.
Tonight I pray for God to work a miracle through me, to meet me in my weakness. I need Him here tonight. My heart begs for the energy, heart and spirit to be the mother to two little boys.
As I am typing, my toddler boy climbs in my lap and throws his arms around my neck. He says, “Oh I love my darlin’.” For a moment, everything else fades away.
I beseech God to grow my heart exponentially to love two little persons with the crazy abandon that I naturally came to love the first. It seems impossible to me-that such a capacity could exist- but I know my God is the author of miracles. Tonight, I am counting on it.
Not that I would be enough, but that He would be there, ever sufficient.
Clothes and diapers are washed, dried and waiting. The nursery is the same as done.
Today we made homemade graham crackers and baked apples-just me and my first baby boy. I took extra time to let him shake and smell the cinnamon, even though I knew he would spill it on the floor. “Oh, I love my darlin’,” I whispered to him. Apparently the words held weight, stuck in his memory, because he hands them back to me tonight.
Does he know? That we are all going to be oh-so-blessed, but stretched and tired? Punch-drunk with love but worn thin?
Does he know that the worn places are sacred, that when we come to the end of ourselves, we come to the strength of the Savior?
“That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses . . . in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:10
Can I teach my toddler boy this truth, not by words alone, but action and grace and unfailing mama love? Can my very life teach him this?
I pray and pray hard, a desperate begging prayer, for the sake of my children:
In the worn and fraying hours, Lord, may I surrender so that they may see You. Take me to places worn, if it means they will see your face.
My prayers fall at the foot of His thrown, my God of miracles and mercy. I tug pajamas over the head of my toddler boy. We brush teeth. We read stories. Time marches forward tonight.
For now, we are all waiting.
Waiting on baby.
Waiting on God’s perfect timing.
Waiting on grace sure to come.