But most of all, above all, I hope you hear….What you are doing isn’t wasted. This moment, this hour, this weary-second your spending is forming history, shaping, molding and creating a legacy…
You are defining and refining, pruning and dispensing His grace and purposes, building cathedrals which will one day rise up and be something beautiful. Yes, God will one day multiply the fruit of your hands….
Don’t waist this moment. Don’t look around and wish the grass was greener, somehow more full….your children were wiser, or brighter, or even somebody elses.
Let thanks be the fragrance of your lips, gratitude and praise flow effortlessly from your soul, even when your floor is scattered with toys, your eye-lids dip and your face sags from your desperate lack of sleep…
Friends, won’t you put away your phones and laptops? Stop for these years and look into your child’s eyes. They desperately need you…
These moments will not last. For even moms can’t turn back time.
And one day, the door will close for the last time. They’ll be leaving for college, walk down the isle, and you will look back and long for simpler times, when fingerprints litered your window, cherrios sprawled across your floors.
And I promise…
You won’t want any regrets. You won’t care then, who posts what on the internet…
All you’ll want is to look back with no regrets, remember those moments you had, craddling your little one with the arms of love they longed for…
And all the degrees and successes and athletic achievements won’t matter…
What will matter is the type of relationship you had with your children…if there was time and care, and respect for one another…
Yes, moms…it’s o.k. if we aren’t perfect. If we are worn out and weary and can’t remember what day or time it is….
Because all little fingers long for, is gripping, little hearts need is the reflection of who they are, in whatever sweet whispers you sing to them…
And in just a blink of an eye all this will pass. Dear tired, weary mom’s, this season won’t last…
And in the end, it won’t matter how much spagetti spills on the floor…
For they will remember, yes, likely the only thing your children will ever remember…is the time you spent, the things you said, and in every small, quiet moment…
How you made them feel.
Don’t miss these moments, mom. Your job is a gift, it is important. Your work isn’t in vain…
You are molding the Universe….
And that’s a job worth every weary muscle, a job worth exonerating.
***
This article originally appeared at Richfaithrising.com.
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