She places her feverish little head in my lap. And wants to be held. Wants to be loved. Wants Mommy to make it all better.
I stand and smile as he toddles down the hall in his cloth diaper showing off his adorable walk, then I laugh when he notices me watching him, gets embarrassed, starts laughing and turns around to head back down the hall only to turn BACK around and come running into my arms.
She comes running up with shrieks of laughter and giggles when Mommy walks in the front door.
One precious child crawls – CRAWLS! – over to my feet and lifts up hands eager to be carried.
One little one just sits and grins from ear to ear, knowing she will soon be carried.
Another precious child doesn’t know about the laughter taking place behind closed doors, as she takes the ice tray out of the freezer and in complete confusion as to why it is in the freezer and complete disgust at people putting ridiculous looking items in there in the first place, she throws it in the sink – ice cubes and all.
He stands up, then sits down. Then stands up again, then sits down – all the while smiling and laughing at this new found ability. And my heart doesn’t quite know what to do. Part of me wants to sit and cry for hours over the need to even be thrilled about one baby crawling at 2 years old, or about another standing at 2 yrs old, or about one going 3 weeks without getting deathly sick again. And the other part of me wants to just laugh and rejoice over the smiles and happiness and love on each face in my home.
And I stand amazed…just before I fall to my knees in gratitude – thank you Jesus for allowing me this privilege; I cry out in humility – I do not deserve this nor am I capable, but that is when He whispers in my ear, “You are not capable – but I am.” Yet again, bringing me before His feet. One more time, He beckons me to the cross.