Snickerdoodles

Someone told me I'd be a good mom today. And it terrified and thrilled me all at once. Because as elated as I am for those days ahead, I am no where near ready.

My friend Chloe shared a note of hers with me the other day:

When I, Lord willing, get married and have kids, I want my home to be filled with love. And laughter. And giggles. I want it to be filled with history. I want the rich voices and joyful laughter of visitors to ring loudly. I want the scents of Christmas cookies and Thanksgiving pumpkin pie to fill up the whole house. I want the sounds of piano playing and the strumming of guitars to grace my ears constantly.

I want to hear voices blending together in song. I want the singing to fill every empty space. I want strangers to feel welcome the second they step foot into our home. I want to hear the rain pitter-pattering on the window on lazy days. I want to see the sun caressing the carpet through the windows on sunny days. I want to curl up by a crackling fire while the snow gently falls to the ground outside. I want to hand out sweet, tangy popsicles on the front porch on summer afternoons. I want to relax with my hubby on our cozy, front porch swing, simply because I want to be with him.

I want to play in the fields surrounding our house during the spring and I want to jump in the leaves with my kids during the brisk, autumn months. I want to lay on the carpet with my dear ones and put together puzzles, no matter how tedious they may seem to be. I want bookcases filled to the brim with oodles and canoodles of books. I want hugs all the time, both given and received. I want the spirit of love to fill our house and warm the hearts of all who enter.

I want to make pancakes on Saturday mornings and not get dressed until three in the afternoon. I want to play Balderdash and Scattergories at the kitchen table. I want snuggle-on-the-couch-time with my kids, underneath layers and layers of warm quilts and afghans. I want bubble baths; I want to hear little kids giggling uncontrollably from splashing each other, fully aware of the mess they’re making. I want the smell of snickerdoodles to waft upstairs and wake my kids on Christmas morning. I want first words, first steps, first bites, first days of school, and first-times-driving-behind-the-wheel all to be considered milestones. 

But most of all… I want everyone to feel God the second they enter our home. I want every visitor to enter into a home in which God’s glory is undeniably evident and His love is proclaimed. I want it to be a home that celebrates the treasure and blessing is to be called children of the One and Only Redeemer! I want them to feel and see all that He is through the lives of my family. Happiness. Kindness. Grace. Mercy. Love.

Every one of those words are overwhelming to me. Because yeah, of course that's what every mother wants her home to be like. Her life to be like. We're all afraid of dreaming that big, because we're afraid of being let down. And perhaps, more than likely, our lives will not be "all of the above." It won't be everything we've ever dreamed. There won't always be sun beaming through our windows when we wake up. There won't always be pancakes on Saturday morning. Or smiles and giggles.

There will be times of tears. There will be spankings, time outs, plenty of back talk, arguments and discipline. And it won't be awesome. Life won't be perfect. I won't always say the right thing as a mother, or have the perfect amount of patience, or choose the right course of action to deal with every issue I face. I won't always be the perfect wife. I won't be perfectly selfless, and won't always be thinking of the needs of my husband and my responsibilities as a wife. But, with God's help, I will still strive for all of those things. I will still strive to be a woman of God, even if I don't have the perfect house, the most obedient children, or always hear whining instead of giggles. I pray my house will be a house of the Lord, even when we are faced with struggles. That I would continually seek the Lord's face, even when I feel unhappy, ill-contented, or completely spent. I pray He will give me strength and make me a woman, a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a mother who seeks only his face, and can be content with everything he provides for me and remind me that it will always be enough. That I would notice every blessing he crowns me with on a daily basis, even if it's amidst not having enough money for Christmas presents, staring at a sink full of dishes, or dealing with an unruly child.


I pray that he is already making me that woman now.