I see you.

When we come to the barn in the evening and you're working that difficult colt but the four-year-old is begging to ride, so you put everything on hold and saddle his gelding. Then you play a game with him to teach him how to neck rein and in the end he earns ice cream. But, it's after eight o'clock and the ice cream store is closed, so you drive us twenty miles to town to honor your promise, only to find that the little cowboy fell asleep and doesn't feel like ice cream anymore. I see you.

I hear you, too. When you walk up those stairs with two giggling, rambunctious boys at bedtime. I sit in the bedroom rocking our baby girl and I listen to you on the monitor as you read them a book, throwing your voice to make the perfect impression of each character. They ask you questions about nightlights and superheroes and prayers and monsters in the closet, and I hear the patience in your voice. 

When Valentine's Day comes around and you get a babysitter and invite me and that girly on a special date with our best clothes and fancy dessert, I feel your effort.

You put in very long hours providing for these babies. I know sometimes it's almost more than you can muster to play and hold and converse. But you do it. With that same fierce determination that I fell in love with years ago, you invest in these children with all of your heart and your time and your strength.

Come to think of it, you remind me of another Father I know. That One who loaned us these sweet little humans. You've taken the responsibility of representing Him and poured your whole being into it, and I can just see Him beaming with pride.

I don't expect our children to realize the sacrifices you make for them. Or the energy you spend. Or the way you love in the real definition of the word. Really, none of us ever appreciate our parents until we are parents ourselves. But I want you to know that from this mother's heart -- the one you foster and pamper and shower with affection -- to me, every single thing you do for them matters. And if you accomplish absolutely nothing else in your entire life, I hope you are convinced to the very core of your blessed self that loving us has made a lifetime of difference.

Happy Fathers Day to my favorite person on earth.

Hey, God?

You hear their breathing, right? Those three babies that grew inside my own body and all have my nose and my eyelashes and are sleeping soundly on this Mother's Day night...You hear the constant deep breaths of their slumber in this quiet house. And You feel this same passionate love rooted so deep it's woven in every molecule of Your Being like the DNA they share with me?

Being their mother has brought about the fiercest love I've ever known. Their tears, their expectations, their feelings, their needs, their little souls...every single thing that matters to them matters to me. Because you see, God, they are flesh of my flesh. My heart walking around outside my body. I've endured morning sickness and pregnancy anxiety and the terrible pain of labor and traumatic births, but the first look at them makes it all worth it. I've fed each one and held their tiny bodies against my skin and prayed a thousand prayers for their lives and their hearts. I've rocked them during sleepless nights and kissed their tears away and sang lullabies in their ears. I've seen their bodies get bruised and their feelings get hurt and wished I could shield them from the messy stuff that life brings. I've answered their tough questions about life and loss and You. And these children -- the ones whose breathing fills my ears -- they bring constant joy and wild loyalty and the heavy responsibility of Love.

So tonight, as my babies are all tucked in bed with the remnants of my lullabies serenading their dreams, I can't help but think about You, the creator of motherhood and the very Being of Love. And I remember all the times You've whispered comfort in my ear, and the times You've rocked me in your arms through the torrent of life, and the heart-wrenching sacrifices You've made so I can be with You. It's hard to grasp with my heart and not just my head, but God? If Your love for me is even a fraction as relentless and all-consuming as the love I have for my three babies, I have absolutely no choice but to be compelled to love You back.

Happy Mother's Day to You.

"For the love of Christ compels us."  2 Cor 5:14

"As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you." Is 66:13