Touching Heaven

Tonight, I am so aware that my precious children are growing up and that time is fleeting, uncontrollable, and to some extent - my enemy. I am in love with my sweet babies and so want to capture the nectar of every moment as it happens. Being a parent can sometimes be akin to trying to hold water in the grip of your hand.

I watched them sleep - again - tonight. I am one of those mothers. Those stereotypical mothers who peek in on their babies as they lie in quiet slumber. Just to bask in the presence of purity, of innocence, of peace. Watching the blankets rise and fall with the rhythym of their breathing gives me such immeasurable joy. Such still, perfect faces. What wonderful, perfect creations God has somehow seen fit to place into my bumbling but so earnestly seeking care.

This is the purpose of life. These two little people whose life sprang from my own body but who will never be separated from my soul, my heart, my mind, my person. To be a mother is to come closest to touching heaven's gates while still walking the dust of the earth.

I get it now.