risking the jump

I listened to most of a sermon (the rest today!) from MarK Driscoll of Mars Hill Church about Jesus and Children. Wow! I’ve still got more to listen to, but what floored me over and again was how much Jesus loved children. He didn’t care that they were smelly, boogery or invaded His space. He let them climb all over Him.
And more than that; He was a child.

It spoke volumes into my heart that tends to be too serious. I’ve long been one of those people that stands back and takes it all in. I have to really get my bearings before I jump headlong into something.
The problem with my mothering is that I’m still teetering on the edge of jumping headlong.
It’s a fearful thing to jump into something fully and mothering is like jumping into a pit where you can’t really see the bottom. You just have to trust that there is something there to catch you.

I’ve been a mother for eight years now and I’m still sitting on the edge. The water is cold and I don’t want to get all the way wet yet. But if we are going to make it through the next eight years. If I am going to really get to know my children…really know them, I’m going to have to hold my nose, close my eyes and JUMP.

The Lord gave me these children and their personalities and tendencies. He is molding them into His creation and there are a million and one reasons why He gave these particular gems to me. Even at the worst of times when I feel lost and don’t know what I’m doing as a mother, He has given me everything I need to raise them up.

I am thankful for a God who knows what it is to be a child and a parent. He knows what it is to be smothered by others, covered in dirt and loved on. He knows what it is to love and lose. He knows what it means to jump.

By his divine power the Lord has given us everything we need for life and godliness through the knowledge of the one who called us by his own honor and glory. ~ I Peter 1:3

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