A Mother’s Prayer

Dear God,

Copyright 2019 – Taken by Rebecca Grimmer Photography

My little one is discovering new things everyday and learning more and more about the world around her. I love her innocence as she tries new things and waves to strangers in the store. I love her laugh as we play with blocks and balls and play ring-around-the-rosy over and over. It touches my heart when she wants to help me with the dishes and help carry laundry to put away. She loves exploring your creation, picking up rocks and leaves and pointing at the sky when she sees a bird. She reminds me over and over of simple joys that the cares life often cause me to forget.

But, God, my mother’s heart is worried, and it hurts. I try not to fear, but some recent things that have happened that I have observed have cast a shadow. I feel more than ever a strong desire to shield my child from the darkness which is gathering, but I can only do so for so long. Eventually, she will have to face the darkness, and she will either be consumed by it or she will be a light in the midst of it. Both roads are dangerous, but only one leads to peace and true joy. Which way will she go when the time comes? I do not know, only you know. The hardest part of parenting so far in my limited experience has been trusting that you ultimately are in control and are in charge of her heart. Why should it be so hard for me to trust? As some wise mothers have told me, “You and your husband do the best you can do to bring her up to serve the Lord, but He is the one who is ultimately in charge of her heart.” This is freeing to us in that her salvation doesn’t rest on what we do, but it is also perplexing to me as a human because I, naturally, want to be in control and know the outcome. Yet, throughout my life, you have taught me over and over that it is far better to trust you to write the story than to try to write it myself. Help us do the best we can to raise her and to seek wise counsel from those who have gone this way before.

Dear Heavenly Father, please watch over our little one. Help us to have wisdom to raise her to live up to her name: to be wise and full of grace. Bless her to serve you in whatever you would have her to do. Help her to be strong and dare to be a Daniel as the little song goes that we’ve sung to her before. Bless her to grow up to trust you and follow you.

Thank you for giving her to us.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen

Fall Days

Fall in the Alps, more specifically in Vizille, France, in 2015

It’s been a busy few months since I last wrote. I haven’t quite figured out how being a mom and a blogger work together particularly with a snuggle bug baby. 😉 I’m only writing now because she’s finally settled down for a nap in her bed. Although I hear it all the time to sleep when she does, I needed a little quiet on the couch alone doing some writing.

Motherhood seems to have settled in much as fall seems to finally be settling in here in Middle Tennessee. I often still feel in awe that I’m a mom. Other times, I’m sleepily trying to talk to my husband while we’re both sleep deprived from a fussy, hungry, growing, teething baby and understand somewhat what other moms call “the fog”. Our little darlin’ is as cute as she can be and quite attentive to all that’s going on around her. As several have noted, she has quite the observant, inquisitive stare, particularly when she meets a new person. She’s sitting up, trying to figure out how to crawl, and putting everything she can grab into her mouth. Her giggles and smiles bring us so much joy and light, I’ve begun to wonder how we ever lived without her.

Playing with her teddy bear

Everyone tells me that it goes by so fast. They mention how theirs are all grown, and it feels like just yesterday when they were as small as our little one. I smile and nod and figure I’ll one day say the same when our little girl is grown and off on her own. My Granny told me on the phone about this time last year that you’re always a mom, it never leaves you, even when your oldest is in his sixties. She was referring to my dad and said that when he was a baby, she used to hold him up in the car window, so people they passed could see the cutest baby that ever was. I feel much the same way about our little girl and know I share that feeling with mothers before me and all around me.

Fall, in particular, brings back a lot of memories for me from times both abroad and in some of the other places I’ve lived. It’s this time of year when I miss seeing the trees changing in the Alps and miss strolls in Happy Hollow Park up in Indiana. I also think of a beautiful October walk with George when we were still dating. What will I remember from these days of early motherhood in the fall? Oh, I’m thinking of chilly, long walks with George pushing the stroller as leaves stick to the wheels on the paved trails in the park. I’m thinking of our baby staring in wonder up at the trees and turning her head to hear the birds singing and flying about. I’ll remember our trip to Lake Tahoe in early October where trying to count how many shades of blue, gray, and green one could see on the lake seemed nearly impossible and how sweet it was to have some walks hand in hand alone with my husband. Perhaps it’s the smells and colors of fall which make it so perfect for making memories.

I think I hear the baby stirring. I better end for now, but tell me, what things do you think of when you think of fall?