Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Be thankful they are there.

"Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out of the way, but is thankful they are there to be in the way."

These words stopped me in my tracks and tears begin to form in my eyes. I was reading yet another poem I had received through email. I get them all the time. Usually I read them and delete them from my inbox as well as my mind. Their messages are always sweet but for me fleeting. Until this one.

This line comes right at a time when my daughter always seems to be under my feet. She always wants to help me and she always wants to be right by my side doing whatever I'm doing. Several times a day, it seems, I am turning around to get the laundry, prepare dinner, make a bed and she is underneath my feet causing me to stumble. And every time I curse silently and tell her to get out of the way. And every time I immediately feel sorry that I have just told her this and every time I silently pray to God to forgive me for being a bad mother and to please, please give me extra patience.

Since the day this line stopped me in my tracks, I have been trying to be more mindful of how lucky I am to have this little one underfoot. And every time I want to say get out of the way, instead I find myself reaching down to give her a hug and saying a prayer of thanks to God for her and asking him to please, please give me extra patience.

In case you are interested, here is the complete text of the poem. Maybe a line in it will touch you.


If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls,
but do not show love to my family, I'm just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies,preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime,
but do not show love to my family, I'm just another cook.

If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home, and give all that I have to charity,
but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes,
attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir's cantata,
but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.

Love stops the cooking to hug the child.
Love sets aside decorating to kiss the husband.
Love is kind, though harried and tired.
Love doesn't envy another ones home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.
Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out of the way, but is thankful they are there to be in the way.
Love doesn't give only to those who are able to give in return, but rejoices in giving to those who can't.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails.
Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust.
But giving the gift of love will endure.


jennwa said...

That is a great poem and is so true.

My Goodness said...

Wonderful. How fitting for all busy mommies.

Corey~living and loving said...

what a lovely poem, and a great reminder to all. Love is the greatest gift of all. Thanks for sharing....especially sharing how much it affected YOU!

Grandma T said...

This is beautiful....and so are you!

Pam said...

OUCH, you stepped on my toes...but I needed it! Thank you for sharing.