Tuesday, November 22, 2011


Last night as I lay in bed, the rain pounding its liquid rhythm on the roof, I thought about how long it had been since a little one had tip-toed into our room during the still, dark hours. They're growing. They don't need me in quite the same way anymore. I suppose that means I'm growing, too. Growing into a different phase of motherhood, growing into a new understanding of what my children will need from me down the road.

I drifted off, thinking these things, knowing that Drew, Bethie and Aidan were far beyond the midnight snuggle. But not my Miss Kate. I wondered how much longer she would find comfort in seeking the shelter of our bed, and ached just a bit over the future that would grow her beyond such a desire.

As if on cue, early this morning I saw our bedroom door crack open. A wee figure appeared in the doorway, hesitant and hopeful. My heart soared and I thanked God, even in my groggy state. I pulled back the covers and welcomed the little one, savoring the rosy pink cheeks and fuzzy, pillow-rubbed braids. We drifted back together, this little lady and I, grateful for the shelter we had in each other.

We awoke to the steady rain and, with bleary eyes, smiled at each other. I told her how glad I was that she had come in, and held her in my arms just a bit longer. Because after four kids I'm very aware that those "lasts" slip by too often without our realizing it. The last time we help them tie a shoe, the last time we give them a bath, the last time they shuffle into our rooms for a midnight snuggle.

This week of Thanksgiving, I want to especially treasure those small moments. Those which may very well be "lasts" and those, too, which are firsts. Her first wiggly tooth, her first solo "concert" prepared just for the family. I don't want to miss a single moment, a single blessing.

I pray that you, too, would open your eyes this week to the small things. That you would delight in simplicity and find true peace and comfort in the rhythm of gratitude. Happy Thanksgiving, dear ones!

Mary Cassatt, Breakfast in Bed
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  1. Oh this one had me all teary-eyed. I, too, have noticed that we are entering a different stage of parenthood as my baby is so very nearly out of diapers for good. I treasure the morning snuggles in our bed and have noticed that we no longer have three to welcome us to the new day. Usually there is only one or two. This season is different, not quite as exhausting, but with a different busy rhythm. Thank you for your posts which pretty much always tug at my heart and make me so grateful for what I have.

  2. and I whisper 'amen'.
    After 23 years of raising kids, our youngest being three, I am keenly aware of this very same thing... priceless treasures, don't you think?
    blessings, Sheri



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