Motherhood, and lessons learned from a tree...

It will come as no surprise to anyone that I felt very appreciated yesterday. Mother's Day tends to bring out the other 364 days of unspoken gratitude that we long to hear. Be this wholeheartedly self-driven or as submissiveness to National tradition, it still feels good to be told you are loved. Here are a few excerpts from the cards my children gave me...

"Very kind and fun
Important to everyone
Kind and all of the above
Inteliget and great cook."

The fill-in-the-blank letters made me laugh...

"My mom can do many things! I think she's best at... being a mom as doing the dishes, and letting me play Wii."

"My Mom is smart! She even knows...the Caribbean islands." (OK - I totally do NOT know them and was smack-talking my 4th grader who had just passed them off for school one day!)

"My mom weighs... 60 pounds and is 52 inches tall" (Hahaha...times a million!)

And finally this poem that Landen wrote for me... (along with a coupon to make my bed and to make breakfast for me which expired in exactly 1 week from Mother's day and could only be redeemed once, I was told!)

"Mom, you are great.

You never let me be late

For a very important date,

From age zero to one hundred n'eight.

Mom you are so fun

Somehow you shine brighter than the sun.

When I grow up if I can bring someone with me

I would pick you to help me climb that tree.

The best day is the day

Where you lead my way."

I thought it was so sweet and yet comically reminded me of the days in my early poetry career (mostly ages 5-10) where I would try to rhyme everything.

As a segue into my next thoughts - the part about climbing the tree is what I want to expound upon.

Here is a picture of my children - up in the Pine tree in the back yard on Mother's Day.

(Look closely at the very top left of the pine in the picture)

When Maelynn came running in to tell me that I had to come and see how high Landen was up in the tree - it never occurred to me that he was nearly at the top. I almost wanted to scream at him to get down quickly - but then visions of him falling 60 feet to a certain amount of pain and/or disfigurement flooded my brain. I told him he should get down carefully and please to hold on tightly. Maelynn ran and got the camera (hence the proof above of just how high he was in that tree.)

Reflecting more on this incident, I had a train of thought running through my mind about the heights that we make it to in life. I was thinking of how I used to love heights and get a thrill out of them - how I loved bungee jumping, and how I still want to go sky-diving someday. What is it that makes a human want to get higher and higher? Is it the invisible thread connecting us to Deity that makes one want to see things from a higher plane?

I then wondered to myself, "Self... why are you so scared to see your child at great heights?" Obviously - it is because of my fear that something will happen to him - that he would get hurt - and worst of all, that I would be there to witness it.

Then it hit me, that it is inevitable. Whether it be a fall from a tree or a fall from wounded pride or a fall from Grace - I will be there when it happens. I will have to be the one to soften the landing, to embrace the pain, to remind of God's mercy. This calling I have as a mother seems to me to be a task that I always envisioned for myself - yet never truly VISIONED for myself. I am learning everyday about the new heights that I can soar to as a woman, wife and mother. I am learning about the continuity of the eternal cycle of this life - mother to child to mother to child to mother....Sunrise...sunset.

As I feel new life inside of me, once again, moving and kicking each day, I am awed at the miracle of it all. How our Father in Heaven chooses to repeat the cycle of life and bring spirits to earthly frames. I am filled with anxiety of the unknown...with trepidation for the future that has yet to be revealed to me as a mother. I feel the urge to plead with Heaven for some sort of an understanding or a view from above...then I am told in still, small, comforting feelings that I can soar higher - that I can receive the views from above... it is all available to me.

My price is only patience, faith, and gratitude.

What a bargain!