An old thought I felt captured this stage:
On the day of my daughter's 8th birthday, I look around and realize we are raising children and not little ones. My eldest has grown and changed. He is thinking deeply, socially aware, and wondering what his place is in the world. My thirdborn is sensitive, honest, and loving.
I didn't realize their legs would grow and become so strong. I didn't realize they would shoot up to half our height and keep growing. I thought, for so many years, that going to the indoor park at the mall would just be our way of life forever.
Now they stand next to the height limit yardstick a little wistful, noting how they have grown and a bit how they long to be goofy little munchkins again.
This is the time of the in-between. They aren't babies and they aren't teens, and they are ours to hold and tuck in at night. They have big fears and big hearts.
The responsibility is also great for me.
But as one of my fellow moms said last week at our Bible study, we don't have to put all the pressure on ourselves. Ultimately, God is guiding this course. Every day, I have to get up and try my hardest to give these growing children what they need so much. And I pray that God gives me the grace to get at least some of it right.
I love these kids.
I pray that, as we X off the days going so quickly by on the lunch calendar, there is time in between to talk about what is really important in life. I pray for the strength to correct with love, to prioritize with grace, and to be the mom that God is calling me to be. I pray for my husband, too.
