As my fourth-born-now-college-age-16-year-old-young man just flew out the door five minutes late for his English-Composition class while stapling his final assignment pages together…I felt such satisfaction well up within my heart.  He needed me and I could be there for him at just the right moment.  It’s what God made moms for.  It’s a rich privilege.   

I love to help my boys edit their essays for school, treasure hunt together at their favorite consignment shop, adjust their knit neck scarves and remind them they need some new warm socks when we’re at Costco.  I love to chat with them through their personal issues of job, money, life decisions, relationships and listen to them expound on their worldview, philosophies about life and God’s kingdom and to hear their perspective on events like presidential elections and the war in Iraq.  I’m inspired as I read what they write, penning such profound thoughts I didn’t know they were capable of at such young ages. 

I love making them whole wheat blueberry and banana nut pancakes with real maple syrup and working with them in the kitchen as we create really great food together.  Choosing items together at the grocery store.  Reading labels.  Investigating new stuff.  Playing at the beach.  Taking lots and lots of pictures. (sorry guys!)  Stopping to notice a butterfly.  Appreciating the cool fall breeze.  Preparing ice bags for rolled ankles.  Planning ahead so my student-driver can take me on somewhat stressful errands and get his driving hours logged.  Such mundane tasks become so grand within my heart as I ponder the place I get to fill in these boys’ lives.

I’m so thankful for the revelation of motherhood and so grateful for the gaps I’ve had the privilege of filling for them, while trying hard not to regret the gaps I’ve perhaps left along the way through my ignorance or distraction. So many little things I find to do as a mom that no one else can do, while at the same time so grateful for all the little things others have done when I couldn’t do them.  Mothering.  Who could master this art?  Yet we practice daily.  It is God’s idea, God’s gift, God’s heart.  And I’m really feeling glad about it today.