At the close of a sweet day, I just sit quietly, glance around the room at my different children, as my husband and I chat about tomorrow’s plans.
I saw a family picture earlier today. The kids were all so much younger, but it seemed so short a time since the picture was taken. That reality. That time is passing quickly, their baby faces growing more mature and very soon, they will be men and women. Ah! It stings a little.
When I only had two children, I never dreamed it would be like this to have nine. To keep loving so deeply. I guess I thought they’d all run together, that the “thrill” of it would weaken with numbers, and “too many children” would just be a chore.
I had no idea how wrong I was. I had no idea the thrill each one would give me–not just the day they were born, but every day. I still get giddy over the baby testing out his first sounds, like a new mother.
I can’t stop staring at their faces, they’re so beautiful to me. Oh we have days when I’m mad at them and they frustrate me; I’m not talking about rainbows and marshmallow days, no, we have real days like you do. But I see the gift in them. Every one of them.
And I am in awe of this realization tonight at the close of Valentine’s Day: God has given us these children as physical reminders and rewards of our marriage-love. And they help hold us together as we see that love–His love–reflected in each face, each personality, each embrace.
Most people think we just have too many children from some careless lifestyle or extreme religion. I think we have just the right number because it’s the number He has given us and He doesn’t count like we do.
To Him, they are people, not numbers–souls, babies becoming men and women, each another glory-reflection.






