I love my life.
I love having six children. I love being at home with them. I love our lifestyle of home education and all that goes with it. And if anyone asked me, I would emphatically tell them so.
But I wonder...if that same Anyone had just spent a week, a day, or even an hour, observing my home without my knowing, would that Anyone say, "Oh...really?" I wonder.
Because surely someone who loved her life would smile, laugh, and sing far more often. Surely she would play more games in the backyard, read more picture books on the sofa, build more marble runs down on the rug. Surely someone who loved her life would lose less patience over trifles and surrender less time to the computer. Surely she would greet her husband---the one who makes it all possible---with a cheerful face and a tender hug each time he came through that door.
We've all heard---and know---that love is not a feeling, nor mere words, but an action. Love begins in our hearts, yet it must be manifested through our bodies---by the things we do and how we do them. So, it's not enough simply to say that I love my life. It's not enough to feel that I love my life. I've got to live as though I do.
As I reflect on Betsy's brief, beautiful life and all that her parents have endured and now must face, I am admonished to make each day count, to make each moment count. I am reminded once again that I have been privileged with the care of seven precious souls* and that I must shower them with all of the love and respect I can muster. Every moment of every day, instead of only when I feel up to it. My entire life is such a treasure, and oh, how it's been squandered.
I know that I'm not perfect and that I can't make myself so. That's a job for Someone infinitely greater than I. But I can---and must---make myself more. More gentle, more kind, more patient, more forgiving, more fun, more encouraging, more compassionate, more disciplined, more generous, more...loving.
Far too daunting a list for me to tackle on my own. But with God and the graces He pours down just for the asking, I can try each day to take a few more baby steps toward holiness. My family deserves no less.
*Seven precious souls includes my husband in the count. I am not making a hidden announcement, more's the pity.
7 comments:
Beautiful, true, and very thought-provoking post...I could have written every word (except I have three children and a husband.)
Diane,
This is such an important post. I was reflecting upon similar thoughts last week. I caught a glimpse of a fellow homeschooling mom in the waiting room at the doctor's office, yet she did not see me. She was holding her toddler on her lap and her expression showed that she was absolutely joyously engaged in delighting in her daughter's attention. After gazing upon this scene, I greeted her and her children and I let her know that she was a beautiful witness for motherhood. Reading your post now echoes to me that our lives should reflect the blessings that they are! Thank you!
I think to every mother it always seems like every other mother is so much "more" than we are ...but of course if there is no struggle to be holy, how holy are we?
This post is an inspiration.
Thank you all for the kind and encouraging comments. They mean so much.
Kristina, I love that story. That is exactly the kind of mother I want to be. Thanks for sharing it here.
>More gentle, more kind, more patient, >more forgiving, more fun, more >encouraging, more compassionate, more >disciplined, more generous, >more...loving.
I can't think of a better thought to start my morning than this. Thank you, Diane.
"I am admonished to make each day count, to make each moment count."
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Yes. Oh, yes. The day after I read of Betsy's death, I caught myself feeling impatient at the early rising of my precious 4yo. But then I thought of Betsy. How many times in the coming years will they ache to hold her? To see her face in the morning, no matter what the hour? How dare I .... I, too, am admonished to be grateful for every moment.
This is so wonderful...so glad you're in the blogosphere!!!
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