There are seasons that we all go through.
Some seem long and arduous. Some are just way too short. You want so bad to capture each moment in your mind and your smart camera just doesn’t have enough storage to record life on the fast track.
I am in a season of transition. I have children half way through high school while having a young child just in his early years of school. Things are moving at different paces depending on where my energy is spent and how far I am stretched.
However, this season still contains story-telling. Every night, as I tuck my youngest child into bed after prayers, he says to me, “Mommy, tell me a story.”
I stretch out next to him and sigh that probably sounds annoyed because it is time for me to wind down as well, but then I remember that my child doesn’t stay a child for so long. Pretty soon he won’t want me to lay in bed and tell him about my childhood pets, silly antidotes from his uncles, or the time I fell out of a tree.
As he snuggles up to me, and I breathe in his sweet-smelling head, I whisper, “What would you like to hear?” We then dive into my childhood memories and giggle our way through.
3 John 1:4 ESV I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.
I think there are a few different camps of parenting out there, and I fall into the camp that says, “Baby boy, please stay little. The world is a scary place and I want you under my wing forever.”
Psalm 127:3 Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.
I then remember that one day, he will tuck his little child into bed and tell them about the times his mom would do the same with him, my silly antidotes, stories about our pets, and the time his sister got stuck on the high dive. I am creating a legacy by living in my season.
Psalm 78:4 We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.
In all of this, I do not dismiss these same times that I tell stories to all four of my children. Some times the big girls will pile into my bed as we laugh about the time the dog climbed the tree, or over how our cat was the master of hide-and-seek. We reminisce, laugh about my teenaged angst, and think through life lessons while rolling our bellies with laughter because they know we can look back at the good through it all.
I will hold them under my wing as long as the Lord allows me to, even into adulthood. We are not given children in vain and creating a bond of trust and togetherness is necessary for multi-generational faith to grow. And when we create found memories and laughter together, we grow all the more.