Four

When I see my boys,
eyes-smiling, hearts-racing,
mischief-making, hard-playing,
Being all God created them to be.
I remember how full life is,
How beautiful life is,
How sovereign God is.

And I wouldn’t change a thing.

What pained me brought me strength,
What wounded birthed character,
And I am better for it.
Time heals the deepest wounds,
Leaving just the faintest scar,
To remind us that we’re human.
Six weeks or sixty years,

A child is still a child.

Today I’ll close my eyes and remember,
I’m really a momma to three.
I’ll say a prayer of thanks,
For the precious two I have,
Promising to hold them tighter,
Play with them longer,
Love them harder.

Because I know that’s what really matters.