I got a call this morning from Anna about 15 minutes after I dropped Anna and Taylor off at school. By this time, she had calmed down, but she had been really upset after I dropped her off when she realized that she left her flute at home today right after she saw me drive off. Two moms let her use their phones and she left one message that broke my heart hearing her voice that was quivering as she was trying to hold it all together. I had run one errand on the way home and did not hear the first call as the phone was in the car. When she called a second time, I answered and she asked me if I could bring her flute to school. As I thought about the day, I felt a bit flustered as I knew I had a long day ahead with four different meetings on deck, and this was not quite in the plans. But, I figured I could throw my hair in a pony tail for the day and skip the shower that morning to make this work. As I drove back down the hill, I began to give thanks that we had a car that I could use to zip down and take care of this for her. I was so thankful for her tender heart and for the fact that she cares deeply about being prepared and doing well. When I brought it into her class, she was so grateful, and it was a gift to be able to show up for her.
Then this afternoon, my mom called me to check in. She asked about my running as I've had a few aches and pains the last few weeks. She knows that I want to run well in the race coming up and she let me know that she was keeping this close to her heart. As I had been able to show up for Anna this morning, it was such a gift to have Janie show up for me with her phone call this afternoon.
I read this post below from Lisa Jo- Baker last month and it was spot on for today.
It made me stop to thank God today for the gift of having a mom and of being a daughter and of being a mom and having a daughter...
"......and I know this is a promise I can stake my life on.
I will always come.
When you forget your lunch. When you are sheep number 5 in the Christmas play.When you take up the recorder and bleat all the way through the Easter service. When you get that bad hair cut. When you think you want to be a beauty queen, when you swear off fashion altogether.
I will come.
When the mean girls make you want to shrivel inside your skin. When a teacher intimidates you. When you intimidate the teachers. When you think you can sing and try out for a musical, when you get laughed at and people point fingers at your hair and your shoes and your too bony hips.
My darling, I will come.
When that boy breaks your heart and you’re stranded at a college miles away, I will come. When the internship you thought was part of your calling falls through. When a friend gets sick. When the car crashes. When you have more long distance charges than you thought possible. When you run out of gas, chocolate chip cookies and faith.
I will be there.
When you say your “I dos,” when you you start your happily ever afters, when none of it quite feels like you thought it would. When you don’t know how to pick a mattress, when the sofa is in the wrong place, when you regret what feels like signing your life away to someone else. When you keep on keeping on. When you remember how to say sorry. When you need a safe place to say how cliche you feel all “barefoot and pregnant” I will so be there.
When the baby won’t sleep and the world’s on fire with sleep exhaustion.
Sweetheart, I will come.
When your husband’s out of work. When you’re down to one car and have moved in with his in-laws. When your job threatens to break your heart. When toddlers make you question your sanity. When you realize that you’ve made the worst mistake a woman can make. When you’ve run out of tears and still the tears keeping coming.
I will come.
When you move and move and relocate again. When you pack boxes and dreams and hope. When your life is a world of duct tape and questions. I will still come.
And when your home is warm and your heart is full. When you’re at peace. When you need someone to share the joy, to watch the kids, to admire the dimples. When you want to remember that old recipe for melktert, when you still can’t pick a sofa, when you wish you’d never said yes to the dog.
When you don’t know where you’re going. When you’re the most sure of yourself you’ve ever been. When you’re holding onto faith with just your fingernails. When you’re singing, “Jesus loves me this I know” and you mean it with every tiny, beautiful, miraculous part of your DNA -
...always I will come. One hundred different ways I will come when you call.
I will rock and roll you with my love and the promise that I will help you get back on your feet. I will hold your hand. I will rejoice. I will babysit. I will pass the tissues. I will wash the dishes.
I will come.
Tonight.
Tomorrow.
And the day after. And after.
And then some." -Lisa Jo-Baker
http://lisajobaker.com/2013/08/a-promise-for-my-daughter/
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