Living abundantly in a house full of walking, running, and grinning boys

I was doing the dishes after supper Tuesday night when I heard Dave coaxing our littlest one to his first independent steps.

To our left was our biggest boy, smiling, listening (and hearing), with a half grin on his face.

Two very active boys, all hyped up on Thanksgiving break giddiness, ran circles around every one of us.

Kai grinned, and giggled, and teetered...

and then he did it.

He’s been on the cusp of walking for a few weeks now, but hasn’t had the courage to release his hold and go for it.

Until that night.

If you are a mom – you know the feeling.

It’s this joy and “wow, he finally did it!” – so quickly followed by an ache.

Because last year at Thanksgiving time, although I was so very sleep deprived, I was in this blissful state of cuddling softness. I had a tiny bundle with the thickest darkest hair, who filled my heart with such a completeness.

But tonight I have a little boy who, like the others before him, is transitioning from complete dependence to navigating his world independently.

 Dave’s big smile clearly spoke of daddy pride. And I worked at keeping tears at bay.

These moments; these all the way happy and partially aching moments, define my joy. It’s the everyday, and the once in a lifetime milestones, and the sharing – being surrounded by the people who mean more to me than I ever thought possible, that seem to most aptly describe the abundant life.

Thank you God.

For showing me what it is to love and to be loved {The real kind}.

For pain.

For humbling me {by way of misspelled words, slow learning, and getting lost in close-by cities} – and then revealing the value in that.

For babies who grow up {gulp}.

For enlightening me in the beauty of changing seasons.

For a man who does not give up.

For coffee {you created the coffee bean and said it was good. I just know it}.

For a history that has been touched with grief {that I may minister to others who grieve}.

For all that you have redeemed, all that you are redeeming, and all that will ultimately be redeemed when the final chapter comes to a close.

You are good. All the time.

And I am thankful.