OK. So this is the deal. I've been reading this incredible blog, www.thegypsymama.com, for a while now. And every Friday, she writes. She takes 5 minutes and just writes. Then she invites others to take 5 minutes and write about the same topic and link their sites back to hers for others to read. And these people, the people that link their blogs, write amazing things and not so amazing things. Silly and funny. Inspirational and thought provoking. So I thought...why not? And even though I have no idea how to link it back, I think I like it that way. Not sure that anyone other than the 12 of you who read this would want to hear what I have to say. Not sure I want a bigger audience. And to be quite honest, don't know if I could figure out how to link anyways. So here it goes. Five minutes. This weeks topic: I feel most loved when...
(Seven minutes have passed since I wrote that single word above. In that seven minutes, I've had an argument with Hannah about why she can't wrap a present for Charlotte, watched 2 minutes of Barbie and the Twelve Dancing Princesses while comforting Hannah, tried to explain tic tac toe to Hannah, and taken trash away from the dog. Hmmm.....not going as expected.)
Let's try again....for real this time....
(As it turns out, when you teach a four year old to play tic tac toe, you must play with her. "But you really really have to!" And you must at least, once, let her win, or she pouts. and when you have a sixteen year old that has all of the sudden decided that she has to have a ukelele, and she wants to talk pros and cons of new and used, she doesn't appreciate you typing while she talks.)
OK...third time's a charm.
When do I feel most loved? I don't think I've ever really thought about this before. But in the starts and stops of this post (the five minute Friday post actually started getting written 34 mintues ago) I've had time to ponder.
I think I feel most loved on the rare nights when all seven of us sit around the dinner table. This is truly a time of joy for me. Not because the food is so good, because so often it isn't. Not because it's nice and neat and Norman Rockwell-y, because there are often spills. But because all of the people that I love most in the world are there.
I look around the table and see the faces of my children. Some of them still babies, yes, and all of them at one time my babies. Growing children that Daryl and I have molded together. Young children that Daryl and I have created together.
And before we eat, as we all hold hands and say the blessing, and I consider all that God has blessed me with, I feel loved. My true love's hand in mine on one side, my baby's hand in mine on the other, and my Father's hand holding me up.
Can we rename this Forty Five Minute Friday?