I'm reminded, 10 years ago, it was my first year starting the school year as a
Preschool Director. It had been us three for quite a while. We always had each other. They made me brave on levels that I had never known before. Because I was their mom. And even though what I swore would never touch their lives became a reality, I could still change things. I could make it ok. And when things did change that fall, I took a chance. And we have found ourselves right back round to this place again. So much new. But what has not changed ever is that we have each other.
He was there long before she ever understood what a brother was. He was hers from the beginning. When finally, finally, he would sleep for more than a half hour and without me holding him in the recliner, I would climb into the shower and scrub as much skin as fast as possible before he could wake up and scream. To my surprise and no sound, I would walk quietly to their room to see her in his crib. All 15 months of her. He need me...she would say. Apparently that was true. She could quiet the screams heard down the block with my one who is so desperately quiet now.
It's always been them. And they have always been mine. And they are still. Mine. That is one constant. She called me yesterday...I want to come home.... And I told her to just come. Even if it's midnight? Even then love. The door never closes. And so when I did hear the door and the excitement of the dog child around said time I knew. It was my girl. And she crawled into her mamas bed to go to sleep. Sometimes we just need to come home. To know that door is always open. To lay our heads down in the familiar where we know we are safe and loved and true rest can be found. Same with God's love for His children. We can always come home. Thankful.