Children are blessings. And blessings grow.
They grow into a long-haired, soft-smiled daughter who at eleven years old is one moment little girl playing with Legos and dolls, and the next a beautiful young lady sitting serenely at my side in a room full of mothers blessed with daughters for Mother's Day. This same child still reaches for my hand at bedtime to calm an anxious dream and squirms onto my lap, legs long and askew, to cuddle close to Mommy and feel loved by a familiar touch.
Blessings grow into a daughter mere weeks from turning ten, feeling lovely and grown with a new pair of glasses looking so smart on her sweet round face. This is the daughter of pensive thoughts and emotional outbursts, of kind words and caring, helpful actions. She is the one who values time and words over gifts and hugs, though she often surprises with a gentle kiss on the cheek when it is least expected.
And of course, blessings grow into taller and busier boys.
The oldest at seven, begging at every turn for Daddy's time and energy to play any and every game - soccer, basketball, whiffleball - it seems he never tires! Gangly and growing, he spills over my lap when we snuggle but is usually still happy and willing for Mommy's "good morning hugs." The next at four years old, so full of movement, easily distracted yet always joyful. Sometimes it seems he receives the most correction, or re-direction, yet he overcomes with that enormous smile! And finally, the "baby" who's not so little at all, with his dark serious eyes and pouting face when things don't go his way and his excitable stutter when he is thrilled and inspired. Occasionally deep thoughts spring from his moments of quiet.
Yes, blessings grow and that's as it should be, though at times we would wish the clock still. These are the moment and messes of a full life, by His grace ...