Monday, November 16, 2015


re·as·sur·ance

noun
  • the action of removing someone's doubts or fears.
  • a statement or comment that removes someone's doubts or fears.

 It's been eight months now.  Eight months of redefining our family and eight months of digging deep.  It's been a sweet time of redemption and victories and it's been a challenging time of stretching and growing.  

Fact is, I wouldn't change one second of it.  

For those of you that have talked me down from the ledge, I know you're probably thinking, "Not even that one really hard day?"  Nope, not even that one.  It's taken me some time (I can sure be a slow learner when it comes to this thing called life) but today, I received a gift. It didn't come with a bow and truthfully, I almost missed it in the mundane. You see, it was tucked in between packing lunches and dirty dishes and answering the same question for what seems like the millionth time. 

"Will you always be my mom and dad?"  

How can it be that this question has become routine?  This is a question I've been asked a lot in the last eight months.  It wasn't in the 'parenting manual'. (Okay, where is that manual anyway?) It wasn't in the dream that I had painted when I was a young mom staring into the face of my first born.  My devotion to motherhood has always been a given in my eyes.  I've never waivered and I've never questioned. As we stood in the kitchen this morning, I looked deep into the eyes of uncertainty. The simple task of parting ways for the day was bringing about insecurity and a sense of abandonment. It hurt my heart so much the first time these words fell on my ears. How must it feel to not hold the assurance of unconditional love?  What turmoil comes with the unknown?  Admittedly though, I've grown impatient. I've been inconvenienced by the challenge of running to the store or even using the bathroom without tripping over a waiting a child and answering this same question again, sometimes asked with eyes only. I've allowed myself to grumble and moan about the extra time and extra words it can take some days. 

...and then, I started doubting my Father.

Isaiah 40:28 ~ Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.

I started to question if He was really there through the thick of it and if He would always be there, even if I was broken. I wondered if He was listening and if He could hear the urgency in my repeated requests. Would He always be my Father?  Today, in the mundane of life, He gave me reassurance once again. If in my humanity, I can without a doubt reassure my son that he will never look to the skies again and pray for a family, then how can I not know that my Father, who knit me together before my first breath will never abandon me