In the other room, the sounds of drowsy girls is finally overtaking the mayhem of the last 6 hours. Perhaps it’s because it’s my first sleepover, or perhaps it’s because I’m an extreme extrovert, but I think I had almost as much fun as the girls here. There are still stage whispers (sorry moms!) and I imagine it’ll be a few minutes before things fully settle down, but I had to pop in with a little thought I had.
Tonight as I led them in prayer, I had hardly said the sign of the cross when I was blind-sided by a thought:
I’m in the presence of a future Saint.
I began immediately to reprimand myself and think, “Well, I certainly hope so. I hope I’m in the presence of 8!” But the thought and the awed sensation remained, and I wondered why I didn’t think it more often with my own kids. Maybe I doubt my parenting just enough to make the idea of their sainthood beyond my comprehension, or maybe I know how great the moms and dads of these kids are and it seems likely enough that their kids will make it to the finish line! Perhaps I’m just so busy with the day to day that I forget, to my own detriment and theirs, what I truly hope and pray their destiny will be, or maybe I’m just so exhausted at the end of the day that “getting through” evening prayer is the best I can do. Whatever the case, it’s not often I get to experience awe like that, to think of how truly precious these children are. I don’t like admitting that, because it really is something I aspire to: getting my husband and kids to heaven is goal número uno, no?
I think it’s important to be awed by that task, and in wonder at the future in store for these kids of mine. Not just their futures as doctors, lawyers, teachers, parents, priests, or professional soccer players. But their eternal futures. Now that is awe inspiring.
My prayer for today is that I work on regaining the wonder of parenting. I’ve pretty much got the drudge work down, pat, so that’s not a problem. But where’s the part of me that says: look at these precious souls all around me, and that becomes a gentler mom because of it? That’s the part I’m looking for.
And now please forgive me while I go be the mean mom/sleepover boss who tells a certain someone to stop intentionally blowing her nose so loudly because everyone else is trying to sleep!