My thoughts this week have dwelled a bit on the fact that I am the exact age that my daddy was when he died. For years I have punished myself and regretted that the last words out of my mouth were sarcastic and mean. The phrase, "I wish you'd just drop dead," left my lips as my nearly 16 year old self went slamming out of the house. Another silly teenage/parent argument but one that would impact my life forever.
Today I was sitting here thinking what were his last thoughts? My daddy died from a heart attack at our home. Was he awake? Did he realize that his life was leaving him? What if in those last minutes he cried out, "Wait, I need more time! I need to tell my daughter I'm sorry and that I love her. I need to give my family one more hug. I have so much more to do." What convicting thoughts for me on this day as Jacob, my 4 1/2 year old, had a rough morning and went off crying to the car to have Daddy take him to school. No kisses goodbye. He was as frustrated with me as I was with him. What if that was his last moment with me? What if the legacy I left was that his mommy was mad at him?
My husband. These 4 sons. They are my whole world and I am squandering it. I'm letting the frustrations of parenthood derail my most important task - to love. Instead of acknowledging that they are having a grumpy morning, giving a hug and some encouragement I am yelling to hurry up, get dressed, quit fighting, get in the car before you are late and the cycle continues.
I don't want my last moments of this life to be filled with pleas of more time. I want to be ready to go. I want to know that I left it all out on the battlefield of life - nothing unspent or unsaid. I want my children to know clear into their DNA that their mommy loves them completely and fully, that I am proud of them, that though they frustrate me to the point of gray hairs I would never change one hair on each of their heads for another. I want my husband to know that he is my champion, my hero, my soft place to fall. I've been walking around blinded by my past and making the same mistakes...no more. This is the end of it.
Lord, I am humbled by your new mercies given each day to one who never deserves it. You are the God of second (third, fourth...) chances. Forgive my impatience, my anger, my fears. Forgive that I'm not treasuring those you've entrusted me with. Give me eyes like yours to see only their perfected souls. Give me unending resolve to look to you instead of parenting books, fads or theories. Give me the strength to love as you created me to love. Help me to trust in the knowledge that you didn't call creation "good" until you created woman. Develop in me the woman's heart that you designed. Purge me of the worldly heart that I've let grow.
2 comments:
Jacci, I so understand where you are coming from. I was having those fears of early death a few weeks ago. For the past few years, when I'm having a bad morning with one of my boys, I think, "What if this is the last he hears from me?" And then I try to say "I love you" as he is going out the door. Those same fears have changed the few precious pre-dawn minutes with my husband.
You are a good mom and a faithful disciple of Christ. I'm confident that your kids know this and feel your love. ♥
beautiful post
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