Thursday, December 1, 2016

A Mother To My Sons

Oh, but I wanted to be the perfect mother .. I thought that was the goal ..
how the Lord is so tenderly showing me I am not, I can't be and I never was.  Fail!  Maybe, but wisdom picks herself up and learns and goes again.  I think I need to give myself permission to enjoy these days too.

Gran with Budd 17.

I've loved my children with a passion and a fierceness I don't recant.  Yet, there is a sense in which it's now OK to let them fly and let them stumble, all the while learning and gleaning from Mathew and myself.  That's the plan.  Some won't glean, some insist on stumbling and I have to let them do that too .. I didn't know.

Boys' Brigade Presentation Night 2016.

This is my favourite tree in the garden.  The Poinsiana Tree.  It has blossomed once in the 13 years we have been here.  This is its display this year.  Small but pretty.  It gives me just enough flowers to know what kind of tree it is.  I'll take it.  It's lovely and adds such colour to the backyard (well a fleck of colour out of the corner of my eye ...).

The tree does its best and I accept its limitations and enjoy its beauty.  Maybe that's a small and very simplistic view of how God sees me as a Mother.

Budd is 17 today.  Big interview next week.  Major life changes ahead.  He is a joy to me, a complex array of emotions for those who know me away from here (the blog).  I remember this day 17 years ago.  I remember the sheer joy of another Son and the incredulous look on Mathew's face that our Lord would bless us with "sons".

Budd got his first serious drone for his birthday.  We'll be flying it later.  Tonight is a mexican fiesta feast by request followed by chocolate mudcake and happy birthday singing.

Come, ye children, hearken unto Me: I will teach you the fear of the Lord.
Psalm 34:11
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