Real Life

Bedtime letters and the One Who hung the moon

October 6, 2016


You’ve all gone to bed. All of you. Even you, Pippa. It was a night of breakfast for supper. Daddy bathing Baby. Baby peeing on Daddy. Mommy quickly shampooing carpet while it was okay to be noisy. Baby smiling her heart out for Daddy. And Mommy and Baby closing out the night with snuggles and a song.

And here I am, wanting to use the present quiet for something productive. Useful. Maybe write something New York Times worthy. Or dream of what to cook for my family tomorrow. Yet nothing comes. No great words. No three-step plan on how to accomplish the hidden things in my heart. Nothing beautiful. Nothing noteworthy or insta-happy. And it’s frustrating. I want to make the most of the moments I have on my own. Yet I am lost in the quiet of the night as the tick-tock of the clock overhead drifts the family into dreamland. All but me. I am not in dreamland. I am in the land of, “I want to use this quiet hour to myself to do something useful. Accomplished. Something I can be proud of.”

And then I remember that person I follow on Instagram who is about to be a mother after 10 years of waiting for their miracle. And how she is starting a journal of letters for her babe that he can have when he is 18. And I think, “Aw, I should do that.”

But in all honesty, baby girl, it is not because I want to dote on you with love letters, though I do. Oh how I do. I check my heart. In all honesty, I want to be the best. At everything. Even if it’s not my thing. Accomplish lots in a day so that I can lay my head on my pillow and feel proud. But darling, this mommy-ing thing takes all my time and thoughts. Meal planning. Meal trying. Laundry. Cleaning. Bathing. Dreaming of our next home. Shopping for us. Scheduling, oh the scheduling. I get lost in loving you. And there’s only the three of us! Baby girl, I love hearing your voice come alive. *wipe the tears* I love the way you kiss my face and gaze at me as though I hung the moon for you. Oh, don’t you worry, you’ll meet the One who hung the moon. I will do my best to show you Him.

So when the stillness comes and the day draws to a close, I almost don’t know what to do. Because I get lost in loving you. But the good kind of lost, sweetheart. The kind that takes you down a better road than you could pick for yourself. The kind that has sweet surprises and redemption written all over it. This kind of road is good. It’s called adventure.

This mommying thing is changing me. And I’m so thankful. But somedays, I need to remember, that the most productive thing I am to do is not to fill every waking moment (though that is sometimes necessary). But to let Jesus, the Moon-Hanger, love me, and love the gifts He has given me. You and Daddy are the best ones. xo



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