This fall, I hit an uncomfortable, inevitable milestone: for the first time in our marriage (barring the gap of our own making), our baby is two and a half years old, and there’s no little brother or sister already in my arms or waiting to make an appearance.
Tickets have been purchased, plans are being finalized. In a few days, Christopher will head back to Asia to do the thing for which he was created.
I’ve seen this man in several career streams throughout our marriage. But his calling as a missionary is the only one I can point to as being the one that fits like home. It’s also the one that, more often than not, takes him the farthest from me.
I know that as parents we’re not ultimately responsible for whether our children choose to follow Christ. I know that as they grow up, their relationship with God is just that—it’s theirs.
But I do believe that as parents, we are called to create an environment that makes the choice of following the Lord so much easier.
“Mom, can you do something with me tonight?”
Yesterday, I stumbled upon a blog post that literally made me laugh out loud. The author, a former teacher, shared her views on the shortcomings of homeschooling. Not academically, mind you (“most of them were at or above their designated grades as far as proficiency”), but in terms of… wait for it… socialization.
All those clichès? They’re true.
I have no idea where the time went.
It was too fast.
And no, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Sometimes we have to stay focused. Sometimes we need to think bigger, and to forget the small things for a season.
Yesterday, Mathaus received the packet.
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Birdie turned seven Monday. Our seventh child, with the middle name Seven, celebrated her seventh birthday. I know I sound completely cliché, but I don’t know where the time has gone. She should still be a preschooler. And yet, she’s not.