we're not much for rigid, around here. we like to let the kids dance and jump on the couches and sing at the top of their lungs and make noise. the good kind--the kind full of praise. but when it comes to treating one another, it needs to be in love--always in love--and so long as the day is full of this: of God-songs and hugging each other when they make mistakes and talking about why they're hurting, then it's okay.
we're ambassadors for Jesus here on this earth and as parents i think that means one word: Grace. exuding it, wide and deep and long and far, and teaching it.
so at bedtime, when bubble baths are drained and the toys put away and fuzzy pajamas pulled on (sometimes straight from the dryer, because they're so warm and soft that way) we let them dreg the rest of the daylight hours in song.
and when they tire of that, it's outside or bed, and so they play around on the porch on their bikes in their onesies, trent and i lying on the grass and the kids piling on top of us as the trees lose their colors. because the days are growing short. and our children are growing long.
chaos, really, of the littlest kind, and i don't want them to grow up too quickly. these are the days when they can match plaid with stripes and two different pairs of socks and underwear on their heads. these are the days when they can make soup in the sandbox and run naked through the sprinklers and make-believe everything.
and i never want them to stop make-believing love.
the ability to believe they are worth all of this; this dance, this song, this grace, this wide-exploration of who God is in the fading hours.
may it grow old with them, wrap around them like a cloak, protect them even as the seasons change.
(linking with lisa-jo today)
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