Time stops for no Mom...

This past weekend, my husband and I logged several miles of running.  Not in the way you would automatically assume.  I'm not the type to enter 5k's or marathons (though I reserve the right to do so in the future).  No, this was a weekend devoted to that childhood right of passage of 'learning to ride a bike'. As I jogged along behind my sons with one hand resting lightly on the seat of their bike, I remembered my own joy the day that I finally coasted down the driveway of my childhood home.   I remember that feeling of triumph and pure joy, as I steered my pink Huffy (Thunder Rose... she was a beauty!) down and around the tight curve of our drive.  It's a moment forever etched in my mind, and the look of pride that I saw in my mom's eyes as she obligingly watched me perform this new skill (over and over) is one that I've never forgotten.

More than once during this past weekend, I felt the tug of those memories and knew that I was in the midst of one of the most important moments that my boys will have from their childhood.  I held my breath as I watched each of them wobble awkwardly for a moment and then I swear to you, my heart stopped in that space of time in which they each found their balance and pedaled away.  All at once, I saw them as babies, taking their first hesitant steps...  and at the same time,  another image took shape.  I saw them as young men sitting in a packed car and pulling away from our future home as they head out and into the world.  My heart took a painful and awkward lurch as it started beating again, and then burst with pride as I was jolted back to the here and now... watching my boys ride like they had been doing it their whole lives.  It was a weekend, and a memory that I will cherish always.   Once again, I'm so grateful to the Lord for allowing me to experience the joy of being their mom.

Fair Winds...