“Mama, do you want to hear my poem?” my twelve-year-old asked yesterday.
She read it aloud; I listened.
Then I thought, who would listen to her poem if I wasn’t here?
That brief moment reminded me just how thankful I am to be at home with my children.
I’m the one who gets to hear those poems and stories that need an audience; their “Look at this, Mama!”; their silly, made-up jokes; and their whispered dreams for the future.
Yes, that means I also get to hear the tattling and the arguments and the loud screams if a spider squiggles across the floor.
But that’s okay, because I get to teach and train through those moments, too.
And I get to listen to their questions and give answers that may lead to deeper discussions.
Not every one’s situation is the same, but I’m grateful that, for now, my days are spent here with my girls. I’m beginning to think they need me present through this season even more than they did when they were younger.
So I’ll seek to remember this lesson and spend these long summer days by listening and encouraging….and killing a few spiders.
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