Little Hands

I'm weeping right now in being reminded how little these hands are that I hold today.  This pair of 7-year-old hands that feel like big puppy paws in mine.  He lets me hold his hand when we walk to the 1st grade or when I walk him home.  These little 4-year-old hands that I hold to spin around and the hand that I hold when I walk her to Preschool.  And these sweet 2-year-old hands that want to do everything by himself but will hold them up and say "carry, please?"  I can't cling to this life but somehow, I just want to stop the hands on the clock because it is just happening too fast.
I think about the 'inconvenience' of having to do the laundry one more time because someone peed in their pajamas.  I find myself 'demanding' I not get interrupted when I am on the phone or when I'm in a conversation...one more time.  I think about what is on my agenda and my list of to-do's but then, a little person falls down the steps and needs me to hold him and wipe away the tears.  We're already running late for school and she says, "Mama, I have to go poop."
A couple months ago, I found a cute idea from some smart mommy to have the kiddos color craft sticks (you know, those tongue depressor thingies).  Later, we thought of all the people in our lives we could be praying for each evening at dinner and wrote their names on the sticks.  It is so neat to see how excited all three littles are to be the one to close their eyes and pick the name/family that we will pray for that night.
Tonight after dinner, my Special K came up to me and pulled three craft sticks out of his pocket.  They were colored and he said, "Mom, I have something to show you."  "What is it, sweet boy?"  He says, "One is for when I need to pray to God that He would change my heart.  The second one is for when I need to listen to Mommy and Daddy and obey you.  The third one is to Love."
WORD!  We have been talking and praying, day after day and night after night about him having a listening heart.  I have had more than one conversation with him about how God chose us to be his parents and that we are responsible for him, to take care of him, to teach him and to love on him.
Just when it feels like you want to yell, "Do you hear the words coming out of my mouth?!", a dear sweet child that I bore seven years, through 2 days of painful, crawling on the floor contractions and then 17 hours of labor tells me about God needing to change his heart, that he needs to listen to Mommy and Daddy and to LOVE.  Yipee!
Before tomorrow happens and he forgets about the sticks and the Love, I just want to remember this moment.  This moment  I cherish what the LORD is doing in my son's heart.  I want to remember my daughter, waking up screaming because she has to go potty Afterwards, me putting her back to bed, getting to hold and rock her like I did, almost five years ago.  Today, I'm going to remember the little hands that were held up to me with a tiny voice that said, "hold my hand, Mommy" and carried a soccer ball and a teddy bear everywhere he went.

"My son (my daughter), pay attention to what I say; turn your ear to my words.  Do not let them out of your sight, keep them within your heart; for they are life to those who find them and health to one’s whole body.  Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." Proverbs 4:20-23