Who are these Children Coming Down?

The day had been long and my bed had been beckoning.
Alone last Thursday evening, I had wrestled the four little munchkins to bed while Bryson was away on a church assignment.
They all had seemed to have energy in spades.
I...  Well, I was not so fortunate.

The moment when I finally slipped between my clean white sheets and embraced my pillow like a long lost friend was complete and utter bliss.
My welcoming room was quiet, dark, and ever-so-relaxing. 

Almost at that same moment I saw the silhouette in my doorway and heard the tentative voice call out.

Mom?

Suppressing a groan, I lifted my head to get a better look at Taylor, who was peering back at me in the darkness.

After all the effort it had taken to finally get the kids in bed, it was difficult to not feel exasperated.  But in a moment of uncharacteristic clarity, something told me that it really wasn't the time or place for that.  Instead I beckoned him to me, patting the empty space in bed beside me and asked him what the matter was.

I was expecting stalling tactics for going back to bed.
That's absolutely what I was expecting.
And I was absolutely wrong.

For the next fifteen to twenty minutes straight, Taylor poured his little heart out to me.
He told me about misunderstandings with his friends that were troubling him.  Choices that those around him were making that he found to be upsetting.  Worries he had about Reilly's ongoing health concerns.

As I sat and listened to him, it seemed as though I was seeing him again for the very first time.   
Time stood still for a brief moment and then wrapped around itself.

Watching him quietly, I saw him first as my tiny babe in arms, my treasured firstborn.

Then suddenly as I looked into his eyes, I caught a glimpse of the man he will soon be.  All grown up, strong and thoughtful, much like his daddy.

And yet, almost within that same split second I returned to the moment at hand, sitting in my darkened bedroom, holding the hand of my six-year-old boy.

The two of us had a great conversation that night, and I tried my best to help talk him through some of his concerns and fears.  I sincerely hope that I helped him in some small way to feel secure and loved in a world that can often be uncertain.

But as for myself, that night left me forever changed.

This work we are doing as mothers is no small thing.
Yes, the days can often be long and mundane at times, but still the fact remains.
These are no small souls we are raising.
These little ones that have been sent into our homes possess an infinite and almost incomprehensible worth.
Children of a King, with such promise and potential.

Yes, truly this work is no small thing.