a gleaning

Another thank you is in such order here, friends. This is Amber, the Mama who is married to the Daddy of The Mother Letters. We do call him “Daddy” around here, even though his email and twitter name is “Mother.” 

I’ve been gleaning and gleaning in these letters. Have you? I can’t stop thinking about the blessing they’ll be even years from now as we enter new stages and take on different perspectives. 

It’s been slow-going. I haven’t read very many of them because I can only be touched so deeply in one day. I’m telling you, I think my heart might turn inside-out sometimes. 

How would you feel if I shared a bit of what is really getting me about these letters as I read them - if I share with you what I’m gleaning? I want to talk about them as I read, and since you wrote them, I was wondering if we could talk.

Here are only a few segments I’ve loved from the first two sections (I have read more than that, by the way). I’ve had to go back again and again for them:

“When I smell your chocolate chip cookies, I smile and take a deep breath in and smell the goodness of being home” - Anita S, p. 3

“Strip yourself of what you want them to be and look deeply into what God has made them, who they dream of being. [...] Enjoy every opportunity where little hands seek yours and find contentment there. Revel in the snuggles after dark that provide the chance to hear the softly spoken thoughts from the bottoms of their souls. Breathe them in deeply. [...] The handprints of our children will be captured on our hearts forever and will shape our hearts into a work of art that only a child can create.” - Kari Clark, p. 8 

“When I was a little girl, my mother would tuck me into bed and in a low hum, sing sweet melodies to ease me to sleep. [...] I wanted to curl up inside her vibrations; her warm tones covered me like a blanket. Her voice was pure love and I was safe and secure. Once I was sleepy, she would quietly exit my room and go next door to my sister’s room. I would roll toward the side of the bed, press my ear against the wall, and listen [...]” - Leah, p. 32

“Slow down.” - Ann Kroeker, p. 36

“I’ve been afraid, and fear creates perfectionism, and perfectionism kills grace, and gracelessness kills everything. Death is not a place where the love that grew a child belongs.” - Angela, p. 46

“So a mother kneels. So a mother gets up and works and prays, prays and works. Because the prayers we weave into the matching of socks, the stirring of oatmeal, the reading of stories, they survive fire.” - Ann Voskamp, p. 41

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Whoa! Isn’t it so much to think about? Has anything in The Mother Letters really grabbed you, encouraged you, or humbled you? Please share.

Thank you for confirming Motherhood as a real, tender, uneasy grace. It makes me want to reverse time a little, catch the sand with my hands and shove it back into the glass. 

Relishing more,