I have a dear cousin who is studying in England this summer and she sent me a message this week asking me how I decide what to write about.  Whatever is on your heart or mind when you are quiet, write that.  Her answer: it is hard to be quiet.

Amen, sweet girl.  It is so hard to be quiet.

I have been meaning to sit down and to still myself for days that have turned into weeks.  I have, at times, felt the fire of words that needed to be put down, but I haven't carved out the quiet space to do it.  How many prayers has my busyness silenced?  How many missed moments with Him because something listy felt more industrious?  We were driving back from a weekend away on bicycles, winding through a canyon and following a river and we had just listened to a sermon that was sharp and full of punch.  He asked me what God was teaching me and my answer tumbled out.

I want my kids to sing with me in glory.  I tried again.  Last Sunday I was so thankful that Audrey had had a birthday, that her heart was in the clear and I lost myself in the worship.  I wanted all our people in that row with me, singing.  I wanted my arms to be grow longer, higher.  My voice to be truer, bolder.  I wanted heaven.  And Nate, I badly want my babies to sing to Him, too.  I prayed hard for them last Sunday and it turned into me begging, pleading with Him to make me more like Christ.  I want them to be so familiar with Jesus and His love that when they meet Him, they already know Him.  You know? 

Some days, this mothering gig feels like a short list of mundane tasks.  Some days it feels like a mountainous list of impossible goals.  We are knee deep in potty training and one year old training and I bet I say sixty times a day, That's a no, sweet girl.  Are you using self control, my boy?  But what I don't do often enough, what I am working on is speaking Him into the ordinary corners of our lives.  I believe that we follow a God who is with us, a God who dwells in His people, in me, and I am over here reminding myself, writing it down because I will forget, that the real objectives for this season are much more meaningful than dodging the terrible twos by knocking the ones out of the park.  They're more weighty than making it a whole week with no accidents.  I've landed back on Paul's words, Follow me as I follow Christ and I am once again making it my mama anthem.  Teach them what He loves, Tasha.  Teach them about who He is, Tasha.  Celebrate Him so loudly, so joyfully, that they can feel Him, can picture the Jesus who said Let the children come to me.  Teach them how to rest in the confidence of His unfailing, never ending no matter what, love.  And then, watch Him grow those darlings into something much more beautiful than your lists could ever produce.