Life can be crazy sometimes. In many worlds, this life of mine can be considered crazy all the time. If there isn’t someone leaning on me, pestering me, waiting for me, or whining at me, it must be midnight. If someone isn’t hungry, tired, or desperately needing to use the bathroom while we’re 5,000 steps from the closest bathroom, it’s a large miracle.
I get hundreds of kisses a day. I tried to count one normal day. I gave up and lost count.
I get to see the light in my son’s eyes when he reads “churning” for the first time.
One little girl told me today that I must think her family is lucky, because they only have three kids.
This craziness, the moments when I am at my limit and supper’s late and babies are crying and the floor just got a cup of cooked rice spilled, I’m still glad this is my life.
There are six little people who call me ‘Momma’. God’s given me them to teach, train, to show them my sin and His grace, and to tell them they can have it too.
It’s a privilege. I’m glad He’s called me to this purpose, these children, this life. What joy.