I browse through old photo albums just to relive their childhood.
I sometimes sit in their empty room, trying to hear that instrument play just one more time.
I keep my phone within arms reach–just in case they call–even when taking a shower.
I stay half-awake until I know that all my chicks are safe in the pen.
And pray verses that I’ve claimed for them when I don’t know what else to pray.
I cry because I’m so happy for them.
Cry because I miss them so much.
Cry because I’m so grateful.
You know what I’m talking about. It’s not all the time, but more often than not, they come suddenly. Out of the blue. And there’s no avoiding it:
I had one of those moments last night. A young girl was playing a duet at church last night, her piano teacher at her side. It was the sweetest thing…
And it brought tears to my eyes.
In my mind, it was a flashback to the day when it was my daughter and her piano teacher, who just happened to be the mother of the one playing with her student tonight.
A sweet, nostalgic–and yes, worshipful moment.
I absolutely, unequivocably, and completely love my children. I adore my grandchildren.
But I don’t worship them.
They are His. Gifts. Treasures sent from heaven for a time–but that ultimately belong to HIM.
I can love on them, spoil them, and even pine away for them, but all of it is just a gentle reminder of the blessing that it is to be called Mom.
AND a reminder that “…every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights…” James 1:17
Oh, and, of course they’re not perfect. They’re just perfect for us. God knew exactly what He was doing when he gave us each one.
I’ll gladly accept the good days with the bad, the difficult ones with the easy–and I’m…
Now excuse me while I go show some pictures of my beautiful grand babies to anyone that will look.
I am THAT kind of Nana.
~~Vickie (aka: Mom, Momma, Mommy, “Hey lady”, Nana)