This Sprint Called Motherhood

On a beautiful Spring night, I found myself among my handsome husband and dear friends who share our homeschooling journey. 

Most notable was the couple who mentors us along the way.  As we sat in their charming, quiet, expansive Southern home, relaxing, I relished not a tweet, a phone ringing, xbox, wii, or tv.  

In that quiet and stillness of yesteryear, I changed.  My heart was captured in a different way, regarding my children and husband and our family - our future.  I was forever moved. 

It was a classic Southern night, the beautiful pond, the ducks, a full moon, us out on the patio with great food and laughter.  Amazing home cooked meals, beautiful people, gorgeous home and acreage.  Yet, these were not the things that drew me in, it was the spirit. 

It has been a while since I have felt such a spirit of greatness in such a  small setting.  Thankfully, most Sundays I feel that blessing and community in our home church as we listen to amazing lessons by a pastor God ordained. 

Our hearts were eager, hungry for more from this classic, humble, knowledgable and grounded couple who's once young sons are now grown and finding their own way.  Their relationship was filled with frequent visits and calls and relationship with their
parents - sharing them with us here.  

There was something about the quiet calm and the company of greatness that was poignant.  As a boy mom, I knew that one day these same walls were targets for darts, and fingerprints, and paper airplanes.  These same walls held the hopes and fears of this then young mom as she raised her own generation "for such a time as this."  This same Mom had dreamed of order and sanity amongst the long, rambunctious life she undoubtedly had with two young boys. 

In some ways we stepped back in time, a classic original radio flyer red wagon here, wooden toys there, children's books everywhere.  They had it all.  A library, a play room, the perfect kitchen, bedrooms decked out, nooks and crannies, a dress up room.  

And times still marches on. 

As a nostalgic mom, I can stop here and cry.  Yet, my mind is on fire for the first words I heard as we listened with intent as the husband began to talk about the days, to our husbands, ....fathers.... "It's a sprint."  

"This is not a marathon.  You are on a sprint.  The sprint of your life and one day all too soon it will be over. And you'll be done.  Ours is over.....  

No parenting is never over.  You'll always be a part of their lives, but your everyday, the influence you had, the moment to moment togetherness, will be gone."  The wisdom in his voice of experience was sobering.  They had run hard and fast and well. I want to be like that.

Tears overcame me.  I knew this moment would change me. 

So rather than cry and wish for yesteryear and hold on to day - I knew I'd be different.  It is a sprint... he continued.  

I couldn't agree more.  I am in that sprint.  And I'm mid-lap.  Far enough in that I'm warmed up and close enough to the finish line that I'm gasping for breath.  After tonight, I know I am so close and the end comes so fast that I feel it in a way that makes me want to feel and live and love every second, every moment of today with my own two boys and husband I love.  

I want to be cognizant of every day - the moments - with our boys.  Our boys.  The ones who dance on the roof, and enjoy climbing walls, and an occasional swing from a ceiling fan.  I'm almost joking. Yet, there are moments when this "feels" true.  

Looking back on that night I strive to not forget. To have that "glow!" that I ran, fast and hard and well.  

At the end of the day ( or a life) that is the difference I want to make, a difference in lives, people. My people. I too want  make a difference for the next generation - my own. Everyday I to know I am in this "sprint" as we "raise greatness!" "For such a time as this." 

Are you there?  In the Sprint? 

Carolina Mama 

Warmly, Carolina Mama


Pat Carroll Marcantel said...

Loved this post. Made me teary eyed. My babies are old enough to be grandparents. Two out of my six have died early deaths. Only God can give us peace in this storm we call life.
You found peace and understanding in the moment at your friend's home and surroundings. Yes, it was a "God thing."

Anonymous said...

I loved this Aunt Malise! You are a wonderful Mom and Aunt! Love you!

Love, Tarynn :)