Sick days are hard. I am tempted to get weary of the demands, the tears, the attitudes, and then just weary in general.
Three sick kids = long days.
And this isn't your run-of-the-mill sickness. This is knocked 'em off their feet, sleeping in the daytime, not eating, crying, coughing, pitiful kind of sick. The kind of sick that needs assistance and help frequently. The kind of sick that is distributing medicines regularly. The kind of sick that monitors fevers on a regular basis. The kind of sick that has to force drinks and crackers on her little people.
WEARY.
So in my weary seasons, I try to imagine the days when there won't be weariness, because there won't be three little ones to care for. I can't really imagine it at this stage, but trying to do so always makes me appreciate these days, even if they are tiring.
You see, one day........
....there won't be school room messes to worry about. There probably won't even be a school room. But right now, I love the sound of Christian (he's feeling the best out of the four of us) working on his projects. He loves to draw and color, cut things and glue things. I hear these sounds frequently coming from the school room. He is busy working, and I love it. Usually Ansley joins him. One day, this room will be quiet, and I will miss it.
One day, there won't be evidence of (failed) school attempts all over the house. There won't be books and notebooks and pencils in every corner. There won't be kids who ask to turn the fireplace on so they can rest by the fire. There won't be toys scattered about, evidence that the one year old was most definitely present. And even though I can be tempted to grow weary of the messes and the calls for help with a paper and the CONSTANT cleaning up after the baby, one day my house will stay neat. And I think, but I can't be sure, that I will miss the evidence that little kids roamed these halls and lived in these rooms.
One day, we won't go through stacks and stacks of writing paper and construction paper because the kids (mostly Christian) love to go through them like candy. But that also means there won't be sweet notes for me secretly left on the message board for me to find. Or notes written to me in a journal, left on my bed for me to discover. Yes, I will most definitely miss finding sweet notes to Mama, one day.
One day, there won't be turkeys in my windows, with paper scraps and colored pencils and pencil shavings all over the floor. I won't be able to laugh out loud when I see all these turkeys, one in each window, peering out at me. I might not remember how much craft time soothed sick souls, and how much they delighted in making things. I may not recall how the baby, at one, loved to climb on the table and throw things off onto the floor, and drive me crazy. But one day, I may miss that crazy.
So for now, all this makes me realize that I am happy to be in the season I am in, where messes are the norm and snotty noses go along with cleaning up and preparing dinner. I am thankful that I am blessed to be a Mama, that I am able to take care of my sick kids, and that we can spend our days together, making messes and turkeys, hand in hand.
"Life has blinding cycles of its own — but our God is always blazing glory.
And when you whisper thanks to God — you glimpse the glory of God and pure grace colors your world." - Ann Voskamp
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