Happy Mother's Day

My children absolutely make my heart sing...but more times than I would like to admit, LIFE (aka things that we probably shouldn't even be worried about and that actually don't amount to a hill of beans) gets in the way.  Time goes by too fast, the sun sets too soon, the alarm clock goes off too early.  Today I am purposing my Mother's Day.  I will spend my Mother's Day intentionally remembering why I love to be these girls' mom.

I will slow down...time is never going to slow on its own...that is our job.  Today I will slow down.  I will enjoy the day that the Lord has made and I will make sure that every second of it adds to the legacy that I am leaving for my kids...one that will come to their minds when they are enjoying their own Mother's Days years down the road.  Just like my mom's legacy runs through my spirit today.

I will remember the rocking chairs, both the one that I rocked my babies in as well as the one in which my mom rocked me.  I can still smell the air as I remember those special moments with my mom.  I want my kids to remember those special times as well.

I will remember the picnics that I love so much, both as a little girl with my mom and as a mom myself with my own girls today.  There is just something about a crisp spring day that begs for a picnic blanket and a peanut butter and jelly.

I hope that today you can slow down and remember how blessed we truly are to live out our childhood dreams of being mothers.  I know that I will.  Lets celebrate that today.

I leave you with a excerpt from my latest read...its actually my moms Mother's Day present from me, but really, you know I buy "gift" books early so that I can get a sneak peak.  This one seems to be great.  It is former first lady, Mrs. Laura Bush's brand new book entitled Spoken From the Heart.

Our lives in those years (when their girls were young) in Midland were centered around 

family and friends.  Often, Mother and Daddy would come for dinner.  I would call Mother 

late in the afternoon to see what she was cooking and we would put our meals together 

around our little table.  I remember one summer evening, working in the flower beds 

in our yard after the girls had gone to sleep, while the sun still hung low in the sky.  

George was sitting on the steps with the newspaper, and I thought to myself, This is the life.  

And it was.