Five Minute Friday
The word: VIEW
How can a view be breathtaking and terrible all at once? Back and forth I go in my view. I see it clearly- how they grow and change, the wonders they are. I breathe in the fleeting moment, sad to think of the day when they will fly.
Then I something else clearly, so clear it is red.
The elbow in the side, the tattle, the "he hit me," and "he did it first," the spitting of milk for the fun of it, the way I can't leave the room for thirty seconds without a fight or a broken something. The "I should be able to _____ without you guys doing _________ !" said in so many ways to little ears that don't care to hear.
I see red. Inconvenience, disobedience, and frustration, and it seems like that is all there is to see in this place.
And the that other view comes back. A preschool graduation, an old photo, and a repentant heart, and a mommy lap that welcomes the little ones while she still can.
God help me to number my days.