Loving the Little Years

I came across this picture today and it struck me how little Jack seems here, even though it was only taken about six months ago. We were at the Nature Center and he's looking at the turtles. The picture of innocence and sweetness. And yet, I'm sure at the time I did not feel he was so sweet nor so innocent. It made me realize how often I find myself hurrying him out of the little years. How quick I am to proclaim that I'll appreciate our relationship (and him) so much more once he's reached a future, more mature stage. How often I resent the stage we're in now; how guilty I am of resenting the things he cannot help about himself because he's a child and children are not adults. Children are not adults. It sounds so rudimentary and yet I have a hard time treating him as such and tend to expect him to behave like a twenty year old instead of a two year old.

It's shameful to me how often I find myself so irritated with him that I can't wait until Tim comes home so I can take a break from him. So I can get away from him. So I can go and breathe easy and think to myself "It'll all be so much better when he's older and in school." Seriously? That's how I want to feel toward my beautiful, miracle of a child? I mean, don't get me wrong there are times when I know I'm not being unfair in saying that I feel "beat up" by my kids at the end of the day.  Parenting is intense. In-tense. But it's also an excellent opportunity for me to humble myself, get down on my knees, and beg God to give me the strength to parent in a way that glorifies Him. I can't remember the last time I did this. Again, shame on me.

Jack is only ever going to be little once. He won't always see me as the center of his universe. He won't always want to be held in my arms or read books or dance or simply be absolutely everywhere I am. One day he'll stop requesting that I come into his room before bed to sing worship songs and lay my head on his pillow until he falls asleep. He won't always call me "Mommy." One day he'll choose to spend time with others over me. One day he'll seek comfort in the arms of a woman other than me. Some day he'll stop allowing me to kiss his cheeks whenever I want, and won't be quite so generous in kissing mine whenever I ask. One day he won't be little anymore. And I know, I just know in my soul, that if I don't start loving these little years, I'm going to weep over ever wishing them away.

Oh Lord, change my heart and let me love these precious, precious little years.
Let me soak up everyday with my children as if its my last.
Give me a tender heart towards them.
Bring peace to my home and blessings upon the life of my family. 

Help me to cherish these little years Lord, and keep me from wishing them away!