My little boys are on my heart so often these days.
Daily, as my belly and discomfort grow, I’m reminded of the passing of time.
As I watch my toddler roll trucks into walls and run with glee under showers dripping from the just-watered ferns hanging around the porch, I know that time is fleeting.
Because wasn’t it just yesterday that I was falling into bed, adjusting my uncomfortable body into a cocoon of five pillows in anticipation of Luke’s soon arrival?
In the myriad of daily commands, “Wait! Stay on the sidewalk! Obey me the first time!”. . .
In the numerous kisses and “I love you’s” . . .
In the extreme frustration and inexplicable joy. . .
In the physical exhaustion and excited anticipation. . .
In all these things, I find my heart murmuring little prayers for my boys:
May they grow to be strong, healthy young men. . .
May I have many more years with them in my arms and my home. . .
May they receive the gift of faith while young . . .
May they develop wisdom and integrity, selflessness, and a love for others . . .
May they always set their affections on the Creator above the created . . .
May I have the strength to care for them during the exhausting “little years,” the wisdom to teach them truth in the day-to-day walk of life, the faith to fully entrust their little lives and hearts to God and to eventually let them go . . .
Lately, the lyrics to Keith and Kristyn Getty’s song A Mother’s Prayer have become my own heart’s prayer.
Father, keep them in your care.