Motherhood is filled with so many unique experiences, thoughts and patterns. Just recently, someone impressed on me the fact that my children are not mine: they're God's.
I thought, oh that is so nice to know!
I made a mental list of all the things God's kids did that day and decided I should just start telling Him about these kids of His. Because certainly, if I had children that were doing such unbelievable things to some other kind lady, I'd want to know about it.
So I told God all about His kids.
I told Him how when I was trying to make supper for my husband the other night, I came into the kitchen to find Landon standing at the stove...
"I'm making supper, Mom," was all he said.
Don't God's kids know better than to play with a hot stove? They must not have stoves in heaven.
Sitting on the floor next to the stove was that little girl Janae. She's so cute and innocent and her big blue eyes are so angelic. What a darling angel!
But wait! Sitting on her lap was my husband's dulcimer that I had told her was a "no touch" over and over and over that day.
I guess you must allows your kids to touch instruments in heaven, God.
The other morning, I went into our bedroom where we keep Landon's things. I guess you could call that room "his" room while God loans him to us. When I went into the room we've kindly loaned to God's son, Landon, I found a tragic crisis.
From the time Landon got up until I went in to get him, he had removed his dry diaper (yes, dry), peed on the floor (you read that right), donned a shirt and put on underwear.
Obviously, when God gave me His kids, He didn't make sure they were potty trained. He also didn't teach them how to keep their diapers on until they're told they can come off. And God really doesn't allow His children to pee on the floor, does He? I would think not. But maybe I'm wrong.
And then there's Janae. I think her angels must be slacking off lately because she's had more bumps and bruises and cuts and blood. I feel like I save her life all the time. I think God should send down a couple extra guardian angels for her or else have a talk with the ones that are already watching over her. She is literally going to kill herself.
She put her tooth through her lip the other night when she barely ran into the corner of a piece of furniture.
They must not have sharp furniture in heaven because this poor child is very unaccustomed to these earthly pieces of heavy things we store in our living rooms to sit on.
Hardly drying her tears from that awful and painful collision with the piano bench, she runs and bangs into a wall and gets a red, swollen shiner on her head.
They must not have walls in heaven because this child is just not used to them.
Janae is also very weepy. I'm just not sure what to do about her, God. She cries at the drop of a hat. She is very selfish. She doesn't like to share. She whines and wails everytime she spends any time in her car seat. I can't believe one of God's kids would act like this child. But, obviously they do.
Oh, and before I forget, your children God, do not obey me when I tell them to pick up there toys. They are so easily distracted, pick a fight with each other and then up and leave the room without even putting away one toy.
Didn't you ever teach them to put their toys away? If these are your kids God, I don't know who raised them.
I haven't told you about Landon yet. When he's done with the food I give him, he's been throwing it on the floor. Do you allow food throwing in heaven? I wouldn't think so, but maybe You do. We're also trying to get him potty trained. He seems to have a new fasination for diapers, underwear and anything that has to do with going potty. Just now I went into his room assuming he was sleeping and found he had manually picked apart his soiled diaper and spread it around the room in a million tiny pieces. Every where I looked were wet, jelly-like particals from the inside of a soiled diaper. He had put on a new diaper to boot too. Where did he learn how to do this?
He's also afraid of this fake butterfly I have in a plant. He thinks it bites. I'm not sure where this fear comes from but I wouldn't think butterflies are mean in heaven. They're not mean here so I don't know how he came up with this fear. He will stare and point and wail at the crazy thing and we go through the same scenario about everyday.
The butterfly is nice, I'll tell him.
"The butterfly is mean, Mom," he informs me.
The butterfly is pretty, I say.
"The butterfly will bite, Mom," he says back.
Just leave the butterfly alone then, I suggest.
"The butterfly will get me, Mom," answers this silly boy.
Who would think God's child would have such a earthly fear over a butterfly? This little boy sure does.
But God, if you're wondering if I want to send them back to you, no, I don't. I love these children dearly... as much as I would love my own. Their laughter, tears and scampering little feet throughout our home are a warmth and comfort to my heart. I love being their mother. They are precious to me and I will forever feel unworthy of the two treasures that You gave me.
I cherish the moments of cuddling.
Janae's hilarious kisses.
The way she squeezes my neck when I get her out of bed.
The way Landon squeals and runs when we try to kiss him but then he comes back wishing we'd try again.
The way Landon greets all our friends at church by name.
And then it pulls at my heart during the times Landon sits in his car seat as we drive down the road and exclaims out of the blue, "Everybody will be happy over... THERE, Daddy!"
If I ever wonder what heaven will be like, I just look at this life through the eyes of these kids You've lent us God, and I don't wonder. Because I know that everybody will be happy over there.
Just ask Landon.