There are five, or four, or seven people in your house,
But there is only one who knows all the things.
Or maybe ‘notices’ is a better word.
Knows, notices, makes a mental note, inventories…
It’s part of your role in the family.
But wow, it would be nice to share this burden of all-knowingness,
You know what size shoe your daughter wears and the kind of elastic waist
That your son won’t dare put on his body.
You notice when the cereal is getting low and
You know how many loaves of bread are left in the freezer.
You know where your tween’s Nintendo DS charger is
Where his jeans are
Where his Iron man t-shirt,
Harry Potter book,
And hair gel are located.
He has no idea, but you know.
You know where to buy the strawberry toothpaste,
The only kind your kindergartener will tolerate.
You know how many hot dogs he’s had this week,
When he last took his vitamins
What will make him break out into a grin.
You know that look on your daughter’s face,
The one, the ONE
That means she’s not okay,
Even when she says she’s okay.
You know how to get it out of her,
The problem, the fears,
You know how to tell her hard truths while still
Giving her hope.
And most importantly,
(and hardest of all these impossible things)
You know how to lay them down:
Your love of your children,
Your hopes for them,
Dreams for them,
Hurt for them,
You know how to trust HIM,
And I hope you know,
(Which is why I’m telling you)
That I know
That bearing these burden’s, a mother’s privilege,
So be the one, Mama,
The one who knows
How to give herself to Him, too.
To take a TIME OUT.
So that, in the end,
Those who need you to know all the things,
Will have a refreshed you, a best you,
A You that can feel the joy in the knowing.
Because you’re really great at it.
(Did you know that, too?)