When did I get old? That question keeps haunting my mind as I think back over the years. It seems I was just a young mother, schlepping a baby with a giant diaper bag and ushering two small children into church with me. After church was over, I felt like a cowboy trying to round everyone up. Jason and Leah were always somewhere I was not, and it was challenging to find them, with Micah on my hip. I could carry a lot back then. I was really strong, probably from my years as a tomboy. Eventually I would get everyone together and then into the car for the ride home. Inevitably, everyone was asleep by the time I got home, so I had to maneuver like an acrobat, getting everyone in the house in one piece. It got to the point that I put my kids in their pajamas for the night services, because it was too hectic trying to change them when they were half asleep. I was a quick learner.
My youngest, Micah, was a very strong willed child. I would carry a wooden spoon with me to church and kept it in my jacket pocket. I don't think there was a service that went by where he didn't get a spanking for acting up. One particular night, we were sitting in our normal pew, 3 rows from the front on the right, and the pastor was preaching a long sermon. Micah was about 4 or 5 and was getting very restless. When there was a pause in his preaching, Micah stood up and looked at Pastor Grant and asked out loud, "Are you done yet?" I, of course, was mortified, but everyone in the front who heard him started to laugh. Even Pastor Grant looked down at Micah and said, "I'm almost done, Micah." I swiftly carried him out of the sanctuary before he could say anything else.
Another time, I sat in the back of the church and there was suddenly someone speaking out in tongues - the gift of tongues. The church became silent, and then Micah, being around the same age, said out loud, "Oh my people, my people," and before he could get anything else out, I closed his mouth with my hand and ushered him quickly out. The gift of tongues, one of the fruits of the spirit, is followed by an interpretation, and here my 5 year old thought he would interpret for the church. Needless to say, Micah brought me many interesting and humorous times, but it is noteworthy to say that today he is an associate pastor of a large church in California, and married to a wonderful daughter-in-law.
My daughter, Leah, was very well-behaved when she was young - I never remember having to spank her. She was a very congenial child and it wasn't until she turned into a teenager that we seriously bucked heads. One time I was so angry at her, she was too old to spank, so I picked up a chair and threw it at her. It missed, of course, but that was the beginning of a long, contentious relationship. Apparently, her friends were afraid of me, which I was unaware of. I really wasn't that bad - I just had a bad temper, especially when it came to boys who were interested in my daughter. I tried to protect her from the idiots she would introduce me to, but it was futile. I'm just thankful she ended up married to a great man who loves her dearly. That is the most I could have asked for.
My oldest son, Jason, was dedicated, along with Leah, when Leah was born and Jas was 4. He slept on the front pew, as Pastor Grant dedicated them both. Jason was a very sensitive young boy, much like his son, Donovan. He cared if I cried or was sad, and always tried to make me feel better. It's hard for me to believe that he will turn 37 this month. It seems he was just a baby I held, not knowing what to do with. I had no one to guide me or look to when I began raising him and I did what I thought made the most sense. I must have done something right, because he is a responsible, God-fearing man today and I'm very proud of him.
I'm, in fact, proud of all three of my children. What they've done in their lives and who they've become. I don't know how that happened, except that I have always depended on God to help me raise them and see me through. And in turn, they also looked to God for their needs and have all become successful, God-fearing individuals. What more could I ask for?
So then why does the past make me cry tonight? I have so many happy memories, but many times I wish they were small again, so I could do a better job and so they would need me. It's a wonderful feeling to be needed, and I see why many older people become disillusioned or depressed. When you get old, your children move on in their lives and have families of their own, and you are happy for them. Sometimes, you can't wait til they grow up and get out. But then one day, you sit alone in a quiet room with only your thoughts and you realize that that chapter of your life is long gone, never to be lived again. And you wish beyond words, that you appreciated those times more when they were happening, instead of now when they are gone....
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