Life on Cottage Hill

I've sat down to write at least three times in the past half hour, only to delete every word I have typed. I feel like I have this list of things to get off my chest and yet no words seem adequate to take them off my mind. They must need to mingle together a little longer in my mind, giving me a little more time to understand. Dan used to jokingly tell me to "lighten up" when my world became to serious. I think he finally realized that telling me that did nothing but push me in that direction even farther, down a path I don't always feel like I have the choice in going. It's as if every once in awhile every deeply concerning, historically conflicting question irks in my brain relentlessly, insisting that I've got to answer it at this very moment:


How are we going to raise Jackson and Audrey to be humble and confident, driven and content, to have conviction and empathy? 


How are we going to teach them to serve God before any one else? To not get caught up in crowds just following each other around in circles? To love with judgement and reach out without fear? 


How am I going to show them that you need not define yourself by any one thing? Being multi-dimensional is not only more beautiful, but more interesting as well? That just maybe God intended for them to fulfill many, many purposes in life? 


And what about patience and unwavering faith? That really big stuff that can't be taught, but can only be absorbed through observing? How are we going to exude that every minute of every day? That's a lot of pressure.


Oh, and I can't forget about passion, loving unconditionally, dreaming big, always standing up for what is right, persistence, being consistent, to never stop learning...


You name it and I want it for our babies. I want it for them because I know how having it myself has shaped me. And I want it for them because I know how not having it has shaped me.


I am who I am and they will be who they are meant to be, but there are nights such as these when I look into their deeply innocent eyes and the weight of realizing how big of a role I have in their destinies is sobering. 


I love those babies. I love who they are and I love who they will become. I love them forever. And while I never expect them to fully understand how much I mean that, I do hope that they will look back one day and realize how seriously I took this whole parenting thing. How I didn't take for granted one day as their mom and I didn't pass up one opportunity to teach them, to love them, to guide them to a life full of faith, love and happiness.