Summertime

This summer has been quite a change in routine for me. You see, since my son started Grade 1 this past school-year, I've been used to having both children at school for the whole day --- translate that to: being used to having the whole day to myself!

So, when summertime came and the children are suddenly home all day, I've often found myself frazzled trying to juggle children, home and work, among other things! The other day, I came across an article in the August 2007 issue of Focus on the Family Magazine which really spoke to my heart. It enlightened me on what it really means to be a loving wife and mother.

Here it is ---

What Remains: the 'love chapter' for parents
By: Cindy Sigler Dagnan

If I spend my days building skyscrapers with blocks, assembling cool stuff out of LEGOs and creating relationships with other moms at Starbucks, but have not love, I am only the siren of the kids' ride-on fire truck, annoyingly stuck on hold.

If I have the gift of knowing which child attempted to flush the Hot Wheels down the toilet and which one pushed her sister, and if I have faith that somehow we'll survive life's emergencies, but have not love, I am nothing.

If I save all my box tops for school and give outgrown clothing to the local shelter, and if I surrender my body to stretch marks and under-eye circles (without the benefit of botox, tanning salons or diet bars), but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient when someone isn't ready to use the big girl potty. It is kind when my husband has a hard day. It doesn't envy my neighbour who drives the new sports utility vehicle I can't afford.

It is not rude, snapping at my spouse or children when things don't go my way. It is not easily angered at perceived or real injustices.

It always protects the smallest, sweetest family confidences; always trusts God to provide my children's needs; always hopes in the freshness of tomorrow and the bright future of family; always perseveres amid hardship and doubt.

Where there are sleepless nights, they shall end. Where there are diapers, Little League and dioramas built from shoeboxes, they will cease. Where there is knowledge of baby-care trends, discipline strategies and boy-girl problems, it will pass away. Now these three remain: faith lived out in my daily circumstances and instilled in my children; hope, of one day rejoicing with my family in heaven; and love, which covers over a multitude of less-than-perfect moments.

But the greatest of these is love. It is what remains...long after I am gone.

After reading this article, I was reminded that focusing my energy on what really matters is what's most important. I am suddenly feeling less frazzled today --- even if dinner is going to be served late tonight! :-)