When I think about the changes that have occured in our family in the last, oh’ let’s just say 6 months, I can feel the breath catch in my throat. It isn’t that Mike and I weren’t one hundred percent convinced that we belonged to our Lord. Surely, we’ve known for years. It is just that when the rubber hit the road in our lives, we believed that we had a “right” to a certain life. If we clung tightly to a few scattered hopes and dreams and a “right” here or there, was God going to even notice? Surely not, right?

Umm…yea. I know. Wrong.

I could leave this hanging out there in the ambiguous category, but that isn’t what God is asking of me.

I believed that I had a right to sleep. I had earned the opportunity to only have one child at home and two in school. I was slowly but surely going to reclaim myself from 6.5 years of losing my identity to motherhood. It wasn’t that I didn’t adore my children, I did. I do. I just looked forward to the day when I would be Lee, again. At least for a good portion of the day.

Something has changed in me. A flipped switch. I’m not sure what. Actually, this would be the Holy Spirit at work in me. I realized that today was a gift from the Lord, that 3 of my greatest accomplishments could be the ones that were hanging from my legs (and climbing the walls), and that all of this Mommy stuff was exactly what God purposed for me.

And I was wasting it.

I had shared Christ with them, prayed over them, with them and for them, kissed them, hugged them, and checked every box except savoring each moment.

But all that is over now. I want a fresh start. I want t

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