Dear bank of motherhood memories, I have another one worth depositing. Are you ready to receive it? Here we go…
– – –
He crawled in bed, a full day of play and learning nearly behind us, and I pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. The room was calm, with dusk settling in and the floor empty of toys.
How was your evening? What do you want to talk about?
Hmm, how about foxes?
Ok! Sure. What do you think foxes eat for dinner?
Chickens, he said.
What do you think foxes eat for dessert?
They don’t eat dessert!
Sure they do. Why not? I think they eat raspberry pie.
They don’t have ovens.
I bet their fox dens have an oven. Have you ever been inside a fox den? If they have an oven, then their mother can serve raspberry pie.
He sounded unsure.
Sure! Raspberry pie sounds delicious. I paused. What else do you want to talk about?
I knew there was more. He turned his head and buried his face in the blankets.
I’m scared, he muffled.
When I asked for more details, he buried his face once again.
Let me pray for you, I said.
Lord, we thank you that you’re always with us. Thank you that you are never far, that we can call upon you at any time and you’re always eager to respond. Lord, please be with my son tonight and remind him of these promises. When he feels scared, give him peace. Remind him of the ways you were with him today. Give him happy dreams this evening while he rests and restores his energy. Thank you for all the ways my son blesses our family, that he’s a kind friend, and the way his eyes twinkle when he laughs. Thank you for the thoughtful questions he assembles and how he takes time to ponder our responses. We love you so much, God. You are our comforter. Remove our fear and give our household peace. Amen.
And with that, I swapped our raspberry pie conversation for the silence that comes with rubbing his back and legs. I stayed with him until I heard his breathing change to the steady rhythm of slumber, gentle proof that the shades of evening had deepened.
– – –
The gentleness a nurturing mother brings to a relationship, any relationship, will never be lost on me. When I’ve received this, it calms me. When I give this to my children, it calms them. It’s always worth the few extra minutes at the end of the day, and there’s much restoration from pulling our children close and blessing them with our time before they fall asleep. We are reflecting His lovingkindness, and that brings Him great joy.
One of my favorite songs…
“You have always been patient, you have always been kind. You’re consistent through the ages, oh what a friend of mine.”