Every afternoon my son comes bounding out of room time with an armload -- paper airplanes he's folded, finished color-by-number pictures from a coloring book, drawings of dinosaurs and family portraits. He is beaming. Proud. Joyful.
Stegosaurus card
Home portrait
And a color-by-number he made for me to color (I happily obliged)
They are simple things. Just crayon on paper, mostly. Sometimes embellished with a paper clip swiped from the kitchen desk drawer. To any other adult, they'd seem inconsequential. But to me - to his mom - they are precious, priceless - because they are given from a heart of love.
As a mom of three little ones, my days are filled with simple things. I make oatmeal, serve oatmeal, and clean up oatmeal the baby threw on the floor. I read stories, give snuggles and fold blankets - again. I zip coats, tie shoes and find mittens. I buckle carseats, push strollers and babywear like a boss. I defuse temper trantrums (while trying not to have one myself) and sympathize with every single bump and bruise. I give big pushes on swings ("higher, Mommy!"), slide down playground slides and sing Ring Around the Rosie. Guys-- I do a lot of laundry. And even more dishes. I do . . . So. Many. Little. Things.
To many people, these things are inconsequential. She gave up three degrees and a six-figure salary to wipe noses and make PB&J (don't forget to cut off the crusts)? She could have really made a career for herself.
But to God - to my Heavenly Father - they are precious, priceless gifts given from a heart of love. My gift to Him is to care for those He has entrusted to my care.
"Look, LORD! See what I've given you today?"
And I am beaming. Proud. Joyful.
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