To: The Little Mommies

You know, it's funny. When you are given a deadline or a due date or an ETA, everything changes. Suddenly, everything becomes either more urgent or more important...usually both.

This year has given me a deadline, a due date, and an ETA. I have been given 12 more months in the life I've cuddled with for seventeen years. And as I said, this principle of an "end" makes everything seem "more important." More urgent, you could say.

It's strange, the process of life. Time progresses as babies become children, children become young adults, and you guessed it, young adults become full-blown men and women. Yet, at the beginning, it seems as if you have forever. In fact, the days ahead seem like they will NEVER COME.

Your child will never reach their first day of school. Diapers are unending, and sweet/exhausting are the days of having that cooing baby cuddled in your arms...the baby you dreamed of and dream for. No, they will stay this way for quite some time, with the days of classrooms and homework far into the future.

Your child stands on the front porch beaming from ear to ear, grasping a lunchbox and carrying a brand new backpack on their little back. Oh, how that little baby HAS grown! A little piece of your heart hopes your baby is sad to leave you on this first day of school. A kiss goodbye, and off goes the baby. The baby walks through the door. A new chapter has begun.

Your child comes home, brokenhearted that the boy in their class took their cookie, or the teacher didn't listen when they had something very important to declare unto the class. A knee was scratched, a friend was lost, and feelings were hurt. Your Mommy heart predicts days ahead when a scraped knee will be replaced with tears over a breakup, a failed test, and a letter of declination. But, oh, how far that seems. You give the booboo a kiss, the Elmo bandaid goes on, and a tear-streaked face proclaims, "Thank you, Mommy!"

Sometimes, that "Thank you, Mommy!" fades.

Your baby turns ten and is tough enough to deal with the "stupid scratches" on the knee. You can't pack that lunch anymore because, "Mom! Nobody brings a lunchbox to school anymore!"

And that's okay. 

Oh, dear heavens, welcome to the sixth grade. Doesn't that seem far?? It's not. I promise. Lockers, a schedule (it's a big deal, really), and "who's-friends-with-who." 

That baby walks through three years of middle school. These years present their own trials and tribulations unique to the heart of one trying to discover their passions while dealing with friend-drama and a fair share of acne.

You learn to love in a new way. A new way with increased strength.

 You drive to soccer practice with dinner cooking in the oven, and pray over your child like you never have before. Control has begun to leave your hands, and you smile at the way Jesus nurtures your baby.

Soon come cars, proms, and research papers. Days of diapers are a lifetime ago. Yet, you can't believe how fast high school has come. Wasn't it yesterday that you taught this baby to ride a bike? But now, it's the van. Your van. THE van. 

Four years until graduation. Four years are forever...time will drip slowly by (as you once thought before, mind you). 

Freshman Year. New friends, Beta Club, and great experiences at Bible and Beach.

Then it ends.

Sophomore Year. Yes, the baby is still an lowerclassman. Okay, we're good.

Then it ends.

Junior Year. The college visits. The upperclassman prom. The harder classes, and the questions about His calling. Where is the baby going? Where will He take them?

Then it ends.

First day of Senior Year.

Oh my.

Around this time, you pull out the baby pictures and gaze into the memories that you once held so dearly in your arms. The days at the zoo that were hot and required a stroller, diaper bag, and plethora of other "stuff" you carried around, thinking that you "needed." The "first lost tooth" hole-y smile picture. Baby play dates. Christmas ornament decorating. An Easter egg hunt, baptism, and summer camp. Dance recitals, a school spelling bee, field trips.

And one frazzled Mama. Oh, one beautiful Mama. How tired she looked. Yet so young...so happy...so in love with life. 

Picking yourself up off the family room floor, you carry yourself to the nearest mirror and glance at the "senior year mommy." She is also tired, happy, and in love. Yet, a depth resonates within her eyes. A joy stirs in her heart, while gray hairs grow more plentiful by the week. 

You wouldn't trade these days for anything.

Oh, little mommies. You will not stay so for long. Please, savor the days of sleepless naps and relentless screaming in the car. Please embrace your child's art and hang it proudly on your fridge. Take time to NOT do laundry and just play. Oh, play with your baby. Learn to speak their "language" without losing your ground on biblical mommy-hood.

And for all the times when "thank-you" isn't spoken...

You are needed. In every way.

You are spectacular in your selflessness.

You are beautiful in your sweats and no makeup and frustration.

You are loved. 

Life could not be done without you. 

For great are the trials and toils, and they will be rewarded with their fair share of joy and victory.

Oh, you are loved, little mommies.


"Seize life! Eat bread with gusto, drink wine with a robust heart. Oh yes - God takes pleasure in your pleasure! Dress festively every morning. Don't skimp on colors and scarves. Relish life with the spouse you love each and every day of your precarious life. Each day is God's gift. It's all you get in exchange for the hard work of staying alive. Make the most of each one! Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily! This is your last and only chance at it, For there's neither work to do nor thoughts to think In the company of the dead, where you're most certainly headed." 

Ecclesiastes 9:7-10 (THE MESSAGE)