Children are blessings from God, but am I always grateful for my children? This has been on my heart this week. I have seen and heard many complaints from moms this week. I have complained about messes this week. But, do I stop to be grateful that God chose me to be these children's mom? Do you still rejoice in your children as you did when they were born?
"When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world." John 16:21, ESV
As I was picking up toys from my boys this week, it made me realize how quickly these times fade. We have three girls and then four boys. I used to help clean up girl toys and now there are none.
When I see my kids' sweet faces in the morning, it really does feel like Christmas morning each day. I have the gift of living life with them, teaching them about God, enjoying their company, laughing with them, and watching them learn. It is such a privilege!
Yes, they can fight. They can and do make messes. They make mistakes and are not perfect. Neither am I! Parenting can be exhausting, but what a wonderful way to get exhausted.
Do you delight in your children? Do you enjoy them? Are you grateful for them?
In today's world it seems like we can be so excited to send them to bed, to send them to school, to crave time without them, but can we also crave time with them?
The day will come sooner than you can imagine when they have moved out of the house. There are no more messes. You are not awakened in the middle of the night over and over. There is no more potty training, and your arms are free from littles. As a mother of seven who had a twenty-year-old and a newborn at the same time, my advice is to enjoy your kids. Messes that seem huge right now will fade.
Think about how many ways your kids are blessings because they are. Embrace them, enjoy them, love them, and thank God for them. Be grateful every day and in every circumstance for your children.
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