Love

We all have the things we want for our family. 

Boldness and humility, a life that strives for the highest, while completely secure,

confidence, honesty, great accomplishments,

all simultaneously lacing a deep peace and contentment and joy and happiness.

And as the first model for my children, 

their first example, their current primary role model, 

I feel myself spinning so many times, not sure where to start, 

turning every which way to make sure their home is dusted,

their meals well-balanced, 

their laundry clean (although it's usually not folded), their TV minimal, their friendships healthy,

their experiences rich. 

It's endless, really, the things we could be doing to improve, 

 the list we still need to make, the lessons we could teach, the conversations to deepen,

it's exhausting.

The other day, though, I was reminded of the simplicity of what's truly requested, required.

 It was actually a song I heard on their playlist that sung directly to my heart. 

It all comes down to one thing,

the base of all things lasting, meaningful, beautiful.

Love.

Love.

The word is short in stature, but so mighty in meaning, this thing called love.

And, as we all know, but so easily forget, it's more than the kisses and cuddles I bestow,

it's the sacrifice, the surrender of the "me" time, the chatty phone calls, the brainless web surfing, the juicy tv shows I'm unfortunately interested in during the day;

it's adoring their daddy, becoming his biggest fan, day by day;

it's responding to their question after question after question with appreciation, enthusiasm; 

it's letting them suffer, sitting in silence sometimes to appreciate, value peace, quiet, rest.

Oh, and the biggest challenge for me, 

it's modeling that same peace, quiet, rest for them with a willing, joyful, loving heart, day after day, after minute after minute. 

I really do think the quiet love is the loudest.

The real love, the hard love, that's the true love.

So,

I'm off to love today.