paradox

...sometimes I feel like I might only survive raising two boys who are 15 months apart- narrowly escape insanity, but just a few gray hairs. :)

Sometimes everyone is crying noisily at once.

Sometimes we all try functioning on way too little sleep.

Lots of the time I'm flying by the seat of my pants, trying out whatever advice I can collect.

Often I see how desperately I need the calm, peace, consistency of my Creator.

Often I wonder if it's working- if my boys will turn out alright, or be little hoodlums forever.

Sometimes I can only laugh (inwardly?) at what I find when I enter a room.

Sometimes I call for backup.

Always, always, every day, in the middle of WHATEVER, two sets of round, beautiful, blue eyes look into mine, and it all vanishes. They look up, up at me, with tears, smiles, naughty intent, curiosity, confusion, giggles... and I'm completely consumed with love again.

Sometimes I hold them a little longer, just to savor the snuggles that will soon pass forever.

Sometimes I stare at them while they play, until they catch me and smile shyly.

Sometimes I kiss their noses and breathe deeply in the sweet smell of little-boy.

Sometimes I pull them out of their beds when I check on them at night, and hold them, with admiration, marveling that someday they will be men.

Sometimes I kneel outside their door and pray that God fills in what I can't in their lives.

I still believe it- raising these boys is the single hardest, and most valuable thing I will ever do.

God, walk closely beside me as I embrace this mighty task.