I love being a mom.
Deeply.
I do cry a lot, pray a lot, analyze a lot, ask forgiveness a lot, marvel a lot, sigh a lot, fret a lot, let go a lot and most days feel like I give a lot.
But I also receive a lot.
Today as I counted roses to put in vases for my mom and mom-in-love, my mommy heart breathed in deeply.
1-2-3-4-5-6...
6 roses to represent my six babies.And there Number 5 rose caused me to linger a little while longer on the bouquet.
Tears falling silently on the velvet petals.
My Number 5.
Oh, how she is missed.
Sometimes, when my children are all at the kitchen table (which gets rarer and rarer these days), I have this faint feeling that I am still waiting for someone. Like the last guest hasn't arrived to the party yet.
It is fleeting.
It is just a thin thread that runs through my mind.
But it is there.
That thread of 'waitfulness' weaves with the threads of joy and fullness and contentment and happiness and love and blankets my soul. A soul that longs for the day when all things will be made 'new.'
And then this thread extends out to others. Those that carry the sadness of ashes, having faith that this is where He makes beauty spring forth.
This thread tethers us together as we journey 'home.'
Where, one day, at the end of this thread, I will find Him. And see He is using that thread to pull me to Him.
And then I will continue on to find her.
And I will finally feel like the party can begin.
