If My Child Marries Yours

There are days I feel as if I'm failing the test of motherhood. Big red marks, frowny faces, and an emphatic "F"!

Then there are days like today, where my son falls asleep in my arms as I read his favorite book. I'm thankful for these days, they refill my cup and balance the scale.

I rarely post from other blogs but today is an exception. With a kiss on that sweet forehead and a minor teddy bear adjustment, I snuck out of the room to check a few emails. There, I found this link from a dear friend.

God gives us what we need, exactly when we need it. Enjoy!

If My Child Marries Yours...

(Original post from Teach Me To Braid)

I just want you to know that I'm praying for you.

When I'm awake at night - feeding babies, burping babies, giving Tylenol to a feverish toddler, covering up chilly toes, tucking green monkeys under little arms - I think of you. Because chances are, you're awake too, doing the same sorts of things. Taking care of tiny children that I already love because they will someday hold the hearts that are beating against my chest tonight.

I'm praying that you'll stand firm against the pressures to overcommit and hyper-schedule, that you'll shut out the voices that tell you you're not doing enough, that your kids aren't doing enough.

I'm praying you'll have the wisdom to know when to pick that crying baby up out of her crib and when to just sit outside her door, your fingertips pressed to the wood, willing her to feel your love and comfort and just finally fall asleep.

I'm praying that you will take those children to church...that the mothers and fathers of our future grandchildren will grow up knowing what it means to worship, even when that means missing out-of-town basketball tournaments and marathon sleepovers.

I'm praying that your love for and commitment to your spouse will swell with each year you're together, that you will grow to love the legacy you are creating just as much as you adore the person you're creating it with.

I'm praying that you take lots of pictures so that I can see where our grandchildren got their sticky-out ears and their mischievous grins.

I'm praying that Jesus will give you just enough strength each day to keep you from losing it but not so much that you forget where it comes from.

I'm praying that we will be friends.

We are in this together, you and I. We are building something beautiful with each onesie folded, each invisible boo-boo kissed, each story read.

You don't know how much it means to me that you give your children everything you have every single day...even on days when it's not much at all. Because your child will fall asleep next to mine for fifty-some years. Your child will be the one holding my child's hand when our first grandchild is born. And when they face the darkest days of their lives, it will be your child and mine, facing the struggle together.

Let your daughter hear you speak righteous words that bring life and hope. Because someday, my son will be worn and weary, and the words you're placing in your daughter's heart today just might become the balm to my son's soul.

Someday we will sit on opposite sides of the aisle...all fancy, with gobs of tissues tucked into our fists. We'll watch our silly, sticky, sweet babies somehow transform into brides and grooms and make the same promises to one another that we ourselves have kept...against all odds and only by His grace. And we will watch these children create families of their own with the ingredients we have given them. The ingredients we are slipping into their souls today.

But until then, I'm sitting here in the dark with babies in my arms.

And I'm praying for you.