Sometimes God uses the words our kids speak to relay an important message to us.
If we’re listening, sometimes we can hear more than just what’s being said in the natural. If we’re truly listening, sometimes we can hear the quiet assurance, direction, comfort or even correction that he’s whispering to us.
For me it was that last one.
This morning when I woke up I was reminded of what went down last night. And it wasn’t pretty. The heavy, sticky feeling of regret still clinging to me.
I keep trying to sum up my trip to Africa in a word or a few short sentences. I have so many wonderful friends & family members who supported me along the way and they want to know, “How was it?”
And so I keep grasping for the right word. There must be one. Or the right the answer. Something to say to the neighbor in that 5-minute window we have that will capture all my thoughts and feelings about the incredible country and the amazing people I met during my trip. But honestly, there’s just not. And it almost seems to cheapen the experience to not share it all. To just say, “It was amazing” or “Life changing.” Although it was, in fact, both of these things.
I love it when something “clicks” in my parenting journey. I love it when there’s a connection point for me or my kids, or both if we’re really lucky. As a mom I’m constantly devouring anything I can in regards to parenting. Books, blogs, magazine articles, absolutely anything. Sometimes I wonder how I can take in so much great information and still be such a klutz when it comes to applying it. But when those “connection moments” happen, it can be pretty powerful.
It felt like a “rite of passage” of sorts. Like somehow the hole in her ear bridged a gap between the little girl she used to be and the young woman she is becoming. There are times lately when I look at her and the transformation seems to happen in the blink of an eye. I’ll be looking at her and see the little girl I know and then suddenly she’ll catch my eye and take my breath away as the young woman I don’t know yet.
She’s my baby. I think it’ll always be like that with her. Every new achievement is somehow laced with a degree of sadness over what will never be again. It’s all just a little bittersweet.
