Your little man started soccer today. I had no idea he was so tall - he was the biggest kid in the entire place and I chuckled to myself about what a bruiser he is. All morning he kept telling me "I already know how to play soccer, my daddy teached-ed me before he got dead." All I could do was pray that he didn't say that to his coach. He managed fine, and I think he'll enjoy it. It made me feel good to know that I have him involved in sports, just doing something that boys should do - I feel like you'd love it too.
As I reflect on motherhood as my ministry, I find that I have really drifted away from my purpose. Lately, the kids have been really testing me. I don't know if it's because it's been mostly me with them lately and school is starting, or cause we've been home a lot more now and a new schedule is evolving, but we're all butting heads with each other. Faith is so sassy sometimes, Caleb's whining makes me want to shut my head in a car door...even Carter hasn't been sleeping well. I can't remember the last time they did something I asked them the first time I asked. I feel like I yell too much, and spend so much of my days being a referee between Faith and Caleb because they fight constantly. I find myself sitting on the couch at the end of a day full of running around, getting kids dressed, making lunches, cleaning up after kids, bathing dirty kids, and putting kids to bed feeling sorry for myself. Is this what life is all about? Is this it now? This imagery never bothered me or scared me before, but without you here by my side some days the weight is too heavy and I can't remember why I am doing this in the first place. I need you here to bounce this stuff off of, to balance me out, to take over when I'm stressed, to let me know when I've crossed the line, to discuss discipline and how we're going to raise these kids...
There are those moments, though, that make it all worth it...
Like when Faith gets off the bus, and she grabs Caleb's hand as we walk back home. "I missed you while you were at school Faith. I always miss you." Caleb says.
"I missed you too, brother."
Or like when I'm doing something completely ridiculous and ordinary to make Carter laugh hysterically and the sound seeps down into the darkest and coldest parts of my heart and warms them up.
Or like when I lay down for a nap with Caleb, and he always asks "Mommy, can we talk about things? Like Daddy and Uncle Brian and Heaven?"
Or when I wake up to Carter changed, dressed, and fed in his room because Faith wanted to help me out and let me rest.
My greatest ministry. Maybe this is all there is going to be for me, and I need that to be ok. I want to find contentment is just being a mother. A minister of parenthood. haha, I like the sound of that, though it's a terrible title, it alludes to me knowing what I am doing. And I have no clue what I'm doing. I just know they're all I have left of you, and I want to make you proud. I want to screw them up in our specific ways, they ways we decided on before and the ways I hear in my heart from you. And I know as long as I keep my compass on God, that's all I can really do.
I miss you baby. I wish things didn't have to be so complicated without you. Nothing is easier without you here.
I love you with all that I am.
