Gateways to Joy

With the dawning of Mother's Day, I reflect while looking at how my children have grown. Gone are the late night feedings, and them crying after me when I leave—constantly wanting to be by my side. I miss those days. I remember my Pastor's wife and other women at my church telling me, "Enjoy it Angela. The time goes by so fast." Today, I sort of feel like I don't have a place with them.  I know that I do.  We talk all the time; they confide in me, still listen to me, but I can feel the change. Things are different. While there is still closeness between us, I feel distant too. The other night before going to bed I asked my 10 year-old son, Kramon, to come by my bed side, so I could kiss his jaws like I do every night before he goes to bed.  He gave me a look like he'd never done before.   I knew that look.  It said, "Oh man Mom, no," but he came anyway . "What's wrong, you think you're too old for me to kiss?"  I ask...

H ow did I get here?  Here is so different from where I thought I would be as a mother.  I mistakenly thought that "with time parenting got easier."   In many ways things are much easier for me now as a mother, now that my children have gotten older.  But when I ask, "How did I get here?" I mean in a place where it doesn't seem like much of what I'm teaching is being grasped by my younger children anymore. It seems as if they are going backwards right before my very eyes, and this causes me a lot of mental anguish—seeing the default of their character. Even though I've taught them at home all of their lives, even after teaching them line upon line—precept upon precept God's Word, right from wrong.  Even after instilling values in them.  I see attitude.  Ungrateful hearts.  Sin abounding.  There's just no way of eluding that sin nature. Little ones bicker, and I hea...