It\u2019s been a trying week. We\u2019ve run too fast, and when we\u2019re breathless, bolting from one commitment to the next, our behaviors take a hit. We unravel. The boys bicker, and I snap. The house is a mess, and though I give until I\u2019m hollow, I\u2019m 10 steps behind.<\/p>\n
My husband, Lonny, planned to take the older boys on an overnight, and when the date rolls around, I\u2019m spent. But the calendar offers no room to flex. He leaves, and the smaller two boys and I decide to splurge and have a night on the town. Dinner. A movie. I\u2019m tired, but my little sons had seen previews, and their eyes were bright with hope.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s what we do as mothers. We give from the body. From the heart. From the soul\u2019s deepest place.<\/p>\n
We dress and drive and when we arrive at the restaurant, two little boys stand side-by-side to hold the door for me. When we\u2019re shown to a table, one son pulls out my chair. After the server takes our order and there\u2019s time to talk, a son looks me in the eye and asks, \u201cSo, Mom, how was your day?\u201d<\/p>\n
The boys\u2019 desire to be gentlemen, to hold me in a high place with chivalry, has moved me. Now this question tugs my spirit. My child already knows about my day. The three of us have spent our hours as one. But the question, this reaching into my life, brings me fresh perspective. It renews my vision.<\/p>\n
My efforts, my work, the giving and spending of the soul, has value. I may not always see the fruit moment-by-moment, and perseverance can be a struggle, but the benefits of pouring into others, of stretching thin to cover someone else, holds honor.<\/p>\n
And the reward of the giving is sweet.<\/p>\n
Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.<\/em> (Luke 6:38, NIV)<\/p>\n We go about our evening, boys behaving as the grown gentlemen they\u2019ll one day be, and when we return home they ask if we can all sleep in my bed. We gather extra pillows and sink under my down comforter, and now they are little boys again. My arms stretch to curl around these children who were born of my body and my heart. The window is open, and the night seems to breathe with us.<\/p>\n I\u2019ve found peace.<\/p>\n Being a mother means the giving of one\u2019s self. Over and over. Again and again. But this giving is a gift, and the reward outweighs anything I could offer.<\/p>\n I am thankful to serve my family\u2013to give what I have for others.<\/p>\n Motherhood is an honor, and servanthood is a crown.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It\u2019s been a trying week. We\u2019ve run too fast, and when we\u2019re breathless, bolting from one commitment to the next, our behaviors take a hit. We unravel. The boys bicker, and I snap. The house is a mess, and though I give until I\u2019m hollow, I\u2019m 10 steps behind. My husband, Lonny, planned to take […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":131,"featured_media":28891,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"ep_exclude_from_search":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[183],"tags":[62,51,70],"ppma_author":[491],"class_list":["post-20445","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-parenting","tag-blessings","tag-inspirational-stories","tag-mother"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n