“Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD. The fruit of the womb a reward.”
Psalm 127:3
On a cold December day in 1998, we bundled up our first baby boy and brought him home from the hospital. We felt so unprepared for this journey called parenthood. At the same time, I was astonished at the fierceness and fullness of a love, beyond which I’ve never experienced before, that burned in my momma’s heart. I knew that my sweet baby boy would need me, but one thing that I did not fully realize was how much I would need him. When the rest of the brood, 5 in all, arrived, I felt the same way. In fact, my love did not diminish, but only expanded with each beautiful child.
I have a memory that plays in my head, of two separate moments in time: once when we lived in Colorado, and the other, here in Missouri. Each memory was with my two sons.
I recall them with bittersweet joy.
The first was in Colorado, when we hired a photographer to take family photos before we left that beautiful place. It was the first time we had spent the money and done this. I remember, like Martha in the Bible, being distracted with many things. Did I pick out the right clothes to wear? Would we feel natural? Would the pictures be able to capture the intense love I felt for all my family? Was my hair and makeup ok?
Our photographer friend was fabulous and the photo shoot was a lot of fun. But one moment in particular, plays across my memory like a movie scene on replay.
We had just finished a particular set of photos when Caleb spoke up and asked her…
“Can you take a picture of me and my mom?”
I can still hear his voice in my head.
It was a simple request and one that I recall with such aching joy. He loved me. He wanted to remember this moment with me. And the Lord knew I would treasure this memory close. It was a gift. And, Oh! The love in that boy’s heart when he wrapped me in a huge hug. It makes my heart swell!
The other time was just a couple years ago when my youngest son, Sam, was a senior in high school. He was going to the homecoming dance and I had met him and his date at a spot in town to take some pictures. All his friends were there capturing memories of the special day. After I snapped some pictures of Sam and his date, Sam asked her…
“Can you take a picture of me and my mom?”
My heart swelled to hear the words. He wanted to remember this moment with me. The Lord knew I would treasure this memory close. It was a gift. I was not ready for the photo. My hair was a mess. But it’s a moment in time I hold deep in my heart, because it represents something so much more: a tender love of a son for his mom.
My children mean the world to me. And these memories remind me that I mean the world to them. As my daughter recently put it, “God knew we would need you.”
Two separate days. Both hold such beautiful memories for me. I see God’s fingerprints in it all. Through both lavish and sustaining grace, He has never left us. Because of him, I can not only look back at the times spent together as a family, with Caleb. I can also gaze forward to the time when we will all be reunited again. And, I can take this day, with all of its joys and brokenness as a gift from God. I can hold both joy and sorrow simultaneously.
“And how could we endure to live and let time pass if we were always crying for one day or one year to come back–if we did not know that every day in a life fills the whole life with expectation and memory and that these are that day?”
C.S. Lewis
So today, I look back and remember. I think about my sons. About my daughters. I think of the ways that God has brought us through darkest valleys. I think of the ways He has been with us in deep deep joys. But I also gaze at today. I look at the difficulties and joys of this day. I ask the Lord that He would help me to remember His faithfulness and nearness and that whatever this day holds, my heart would be content to hold both joy and sorrow.