My Cup Runneth Over (Psalm 23): What Will Your Eyes See?

The love I have for my blue eyed flaxen haired little boy is indescribable. My days are devoted to raising him. Our mornings of learning, growing, disciplining and loving are full. Afternoon rest is precious. My house isn't as clean and organized as it was before this little boy entered my world, because his little boy needs require more of my undivided focus. The spaces that were once empty in my living room are now filled with children's books and toys. Our kitchen is home to cooking and art projects. Every area of our house says that a young person lives here and that in itself was a dream I had long before Sean was born. I can sincerely say I wouldn't trade these sticky-finger, adventurous, emotion-filled days for anything. When my head hits the pillow every night I feel a little sad, because I am saying goodbye to another day of his childhood.

But on the days I am weary, stressed about adult things, and he is being...well...two, I remind myself of the day I stared at my little girl and desperately wanted her little eyes to see the world. I remember carefully pulling up her eyelid to see what color her eyes were. I remember holding her for as long as I could...just gazing and hoping to never forget the contours of her face and the blue eyes under those tender eyelids. I remember tracing the blonde hair of her eyebrows and thinking that the little bit of brown in her hair would have probably turned into blonde...blonde ponytails with little girl giggles. I imagined what her giggle would have sounded like. Instead of seeing the world, she sees eternity. She sees the face of God. She sees the angels. She sees my mother. Oh to know, all that her little eyes see.

So when Sean is asserting his independence and testing my limits...when he is curious about the world around him and ends up making a mess (as adults see it), I remember what Felicity's eyes are seeing and I am reminded to give my son a little more grace and patience. I won't deny that being a mother is hard, but having the perspective of losing a child makes me step back and breathe. It helps me value life more fully and helps me love those around me more deeply. I want his eyes...the little eyes that are watching me...his eyes that are open to this world...to see the fruits of the spirit in his mother. My prayer is that God will grow these fruits in me. The journey He has taken me on as a mother thus far is not the one I imagined as a little girl rocking and feeding my baby dolls. It is deeper and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined - spilled milk and all.

Today as he waked from his nap the first words out of his mouth were, "I want Mommy, I miss her". When I entered his room and saw his little face and he told me, "Today is a special day" and I said, "Yes it is, sweetie". A few minutes later he begins singing, "This is the day the Lord Has Made, We will Rejoice and be Glad in it" Everyday is a special day, because every day is a day made by our maker. I am thankful for the places my little boy and little girl hold in my heart and how they remind me of the love and grace God extends to a mother in need of a savior everyday...a mother like me.

"But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. Against such things there is no law." (Galatians 5:22-23)

Sean turned 2 1/2 March 10, 2013.
Here are a few (okay, quite a few) pictures of some of Sean's adventures and explorations during the first six months of his 3rd year!