From Up Here

March 6th, 2007


At my hip or clinging to my knees,
My little ones stay close.
Tower of safety at times I am,
More often than not I’m simply the”BASE!” in a game of tag.
Somehow it all revolves around me, the mom, as I’ve become the center of their obscure little universe.
What ever did I do to deserve the title of mother?
Seems I am sorely under qualified.
Most times I feel ill-prepared to answer, deal or cope.
I wonder if my children know this, and yet love me still.
I hold their hearts, the most vital organ,
To be shaped and protected,
To be cherished and nurtured,
I have been entrusted as one, who is able,
Though I am so unable.
Big blue eyes beckon me all day long,
To give any part of me.
I draw deep from precious reserves.
I pray there will always be enough.
Lord, may the well never run dry.
In the midst of chaos, and Legos, and baby dolls,
I can behold the future…vivid and vast.
At times my heart grows faint.
Other times, I pray to live to see it manifested.
But most times, I’m reigned in by the very present mess that swirls about my ankles.
Sometimes I’m full of fear…as the unknown taunts me.
Sometimes, I’m overwhelmed before my feet hit the floor,
And then there are times, when I feel we could conquer the world,
One load of laundry at a time.
Lord, make us a force to be reckoned with.
How can it be, that such jewels have been placed in my hand?
That such wonder and insight and beauty, could be rendered to me?
And my role, as knee-kisser and peanut butter and jelly sandwich maker,
How does this hold rank in light of eternity?
Oh, how I question my relevance with these fragile little seedlings, sown into my dry bed.
We allow life, following one moment after another,
As the Lord kneads tears, laughter, bumps and bruises,
Making it something brilliant,
Something I do not know how to make,
Something with promise.
So many questions.
“Why?” unending. “How come?” never ceasing.
And though I seem dimly, I sense an adequate answer, spoken quietly within.
“Just because”….and it’s enough for us all.
Child-like faith; my gift from above and below.
The things my children need, I need as well.
The things they want, I pray I can give.
Overwhelming grace comes with overwhelming need.It’s the way I stand; it’s the way I crawl.
It makes up most of my being.
The abandonment that comes with not knowing anything other,
I witness this in their everyday.
It’s admirable. It’s beautiful. It’s the way it ought to be.
It’s how I want to be.
It’s where I long to stay.
At His knees, my tower of safety and refuge.