Mulberry Blessing

It usually starts Monday mornings. The ensuing exhaustion of the weekend combines with the neglected mental and physical household tasks and roils into one huge tsunami wave. I am hardly awake when it hits and soon gasping for emotional air as I try to keep my head above the waters of circumstances, real and imagined. Individually they are manageable. But somehow my mind searches every corner for every possible duty, problem, and need. Combined they present an overwhelming foe, and it's all I can do to put my feet on the floor.

That's how this morning started. I delusionally try to tame this monster by writing down every task as quick as I can and spend the rest of the morning and often afternoon strategizing and planning. About this time I wave my white flag and retreat.

Somewhere between conscious thought, crazed efforts, and despair I had a moment with Sammy, my youngest. We were out back eating mulberries as fast as we could pick them. This is becoming a new morning ritual for me and him since we discovered our mulberry tree. I love watching him stain his mouth, hands, and feet as he fills his tummy with the sweet fruit. His fascination with creation speaks to my own. I was watching him try to rescue a back-flipped beetle, when the thought hit me.
















He delights me.

He thrills me!

And his happiness feeds my soul.

Right behind that thought came this one.

I would do anything to protect him. From anything. Real or imagined.

Just last week he heard a silly, scary story around a bonfire. His imagination took off, and he was in sobs when he came to me. With everything in me I reassured him of his security and my love.

Every day I live to protect him. From illness, corruption, danger. Even from his naive eight year old self.

All this. And I am a sinful parent. If my heart beats like this for him, how must my Father's pound in compassion for me. Yearning to protect, comfort, and save. Continually reassuring me even after He bridged eternity to rescue me from the most real danger.

Might my mother love be yet one more proof of the love God has for me? Tender, terrible, relentless, attentive, constant. But His is perfect.

Life's threats are too big for Sammy. The tsunami wave of circumstances will drown me.

But he has a mama.

And I have a Father.

And we are loved.