I was driving through a ritzy neighborhood tonight. It was dark and I could see inside the houses with their big windows. Some had a few lights on and others didn't have any at all. I started to feel sorry for the houses that were quiet with darkness. They seemed so sad to be without voices of family and children calling to each other, playing games, or just getting ready for bed.
In Psalms 127 it says, "children are an heritage of the Lord... Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them"
I love this scripture, but at the same time it seems inadequate to describe the joys that come from being a mother. It doesn't seem to capture the feeling I had this morning when I open my eyes to a big blue-eyed face less than an inch from mine, and the ensuing smile that erupted when he realized I was not asleep anymore.
Or the feeling I got tonight when we had prayer and he folded his chubby little arms across his tummy and bowed his head. Most nights he interrupts the prayer briefly to sneak a kiss from either mom or dad.
I could tell countless stories of all the sweet feelings and experiences that I have had being a mom, but I am just not adequate to perfectly describe how it really feels. I am just so thankful to be a mother and to have my sweet little boy and all the diapers, hand prints, and Cheerio covered carpet that comes with him.
And in the end, maybe the scripture simply says it all. "Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them".
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