I pray that we never take for granted the men and women who risked their safety and their lives so that we an live another day in the land of the free and the home of the brave!
Early morning giggles in the guest bedroom wafted to my ears. Thundering toddler footsteps echoed down the hall.
“Don’t be silly,” I admonished myself. “They’re not here anymore.”
Memories of the past week echoed in my mind. I knew my second son and family had headed back to the Midwest, and yet their presence lingers in my heart, my treasure box of memories. Our home has already been restored to its pre-toddler order. Books shelved and toys piled in appropriate baskets.
A twinge of sadness. Back in the day I strategized how to keep our floor clean on a regular basis. It doesn’t seem like such a victory now. I’d rather have the mess. People come with messes.
Messes are part of life.
I used to think, “Let’s clean up this mess and move on to more important things!” But somewhere between late night feedings and college graduations, the Lord altered my motivation from task-accomplishing to something more akin to shepherding. Loving lives for the long haul.
Tending to needs.
Gathering for nourishment.
Leading with love.
Embracing the holy and sanctified calling of Motherhood.
People need Mothers. Caring and nurturing women who see extraordinary value in wiping runny noses and sweeping sandy floors because they represent loved ones created in the image of God.
Are you a mother? A grandmother? Thank you for loving your children and grandchildren to the glory of God. Knowing just how they like their peanut butter sandwiches made is a reminder to them that they have worth in your eyes.
Significance as a mother is not determined by completing a momentary chore.
A mother’s merit is having grace to embrace the messy face and feel the warmth of God’s pleasure.
Hello! My name is Vicki Johnson, aka, gracefilledgirl.