>So.

It’s been quiet. The reasons are the same as always. Busy life = quiet blog. I’ve written several posts, actually, but they never made it from my brain to the computer screen.

Another reason is, I’m in a bit of a funk. I’ve debated about whether to write about it here, or to just sit and wait until the clouds in my mind finally drift off.

The past few weeks have been challenging as summer break ended and school routines began again. This was my first post-school year summer, and many parents can attest to the bickering that commences about 2 or 3 weeks after school has dismissed for the summer. It lasts until the day they go back. I’ve never been one to wish my children away, nor have I been one to count down the days until school, but I must admit relief at the reprieve school has offered.

Tonight, my youngest was being super sweet. Uber sweet would probably be a better description. She was settling down for the night, her forehead covered with corkscrew curls that would fall in her eyes had they not been coiled tighter by the humidity. She suddenly sat straight up and began apologizing for all kinds of things: for breaking the zebra on the Noah’s Ark her grandmother gave her, for breaking the jewelry box my grandmother had given her, for hurting her sister’s feelings and for hurting me (physically. She has extra sharp elbows and has a gift for finding my c-section incision, a bum knee, etc. with them).

I was astonished that she still remembered some of these things; I had long forgotten them.

She had apologized for a couple of those things before. There was no need to apologize again.

I hugged her as tightly as I could and told her that it was OK. That she didn’t need to apologize again and again. All I could think was loving her and telling her everything was alright.

A little nudge and heart whisper/thought: Is this the way God sees me when I repent?

Is this how He feels when I come back again and again, apologizing for the same thing?

These precious gifts, revealing secrets of Heaven by just being themselves… by just being their mother, I can see things I couldn’t see before.

Advertisements