I’m feeling a little reflective this week. It started on Sunday when our pastor preached this sermon about heaven. It continued last night as a dear friend and I discussed how quickly our 30s are passing. And then, just this afternoon, I read this post on Filling Time with Gratitude and Grace.
The article included yet another deep thought from Ann Voskamp:
I watch the hands move grace on the clock face. I’m growing older. These children growing up. But time is not running out. This day is not a sieve, losing time. With each passing minute, each passing year, there’s this deepening awareness that I am filling time, gaining time. We stand on the brink of eternity.” -Ann Voskamp
What a refreshing perspective on time! Especially when you have little ones about the house, time seems to pass so quickly. Not necessarily the days — filled with diaper changes and feedings and naps and such — but the years. The years pass quickly.
These past four or five years, I have grown comfortable and familiar with being a mom of a preschooler — first with Linnea and then again with Laurel. There are nearly three years between them, but somehow it seems there was no interruption in my era of being a mother of a preschooler.
As that era is now quickly drawing to a close, I present my own little poem about it.
My babies don’t look like babies anymore.
Though I swaddle them up, lie them down on the floor;
Oh, they simply are not babies anymore!
So back I look at pictures taken not long ago —
Back when the littlest one’s curls were tightly so;
Back when the oldest’s baby teeth had yet to go.
And I see these children a-growing up.
‘Tis a precious process I dare not disrupt.
But yes, my babies are a-growing up.