The Ticking of the Clock

Time is slipping away from me. I sit in the darkness of a house grown still after a busy day and listen to the ticking of the clock on the wall. I want to reach out and catch that ticking hand and hold it – keep those seconds from continually passing.

The impressions and warmth of my bedtime hugs, kisses, and snuggles are still fresh in flesh memory. I can feel the softness of my baby’s cheek on my lips, the impression of small hands on the back of my neck, the warmth of my husband’s hand on mine. As the tears slip silently down my cheeks I reflect on the goodness of this life and the opportunity I have to live it.

God is so good and this time is so precious. As much as I want to stop it the time will continue to tick by and I will never be able to have these days back. Although they may be replaced with equally wonderful days and memories, my heart yearns for this busy, hectic time when I am needed so much.

There are things I want to remember. Things I should be writing down. This morning Abrielle walked in to where I was sitting and said, "I need to write my name on this book. Other authors right their names really small on the front so I'm going to do that." She loves reading and writing. She meticulously works on her animal books each day and I have the rare privilege of hearing the first words her pen puts to paper.

Tender-hearted Nathan loves “squeeze hugs.” I think he wants to feel the reassurance that mommy will hold him tight and be there for him. I also found him quietly and determinedly drawing an intricate picture with letters all around. He yearns so much to be accomplished like his sister.

And then there is my Valerie. Oh my sweet, precious girl. I took the opportunity over the last few days to snuggle with her a little more. She has fallen asleep in my arms countless times but this morning I lay with her and felt her hand against mine. She knew I was there and felt safe and secure in that knowledge. As I feed her she runs that sweet, chubby hand across my face – studying and memorizing my features, feeling each emotion that is engraving itself deeper on my face with the passing years.

Motherhood is a divine and precious gift. There are times that I forget that. Times when the heavy burdens I carry each day weigh me down and threaten to crush me. There are times I feel the sweet enticements of getting away and breathing in freedom far away from the dependent hands that pull on me each day. But those sweet, precious hands are telling me something that I haven’t listened to like I should have, and someday those sweet hands may no longer reach out with words of, “Mommy, I need you. Mommy, I want you.”

Please Time, stop ticking forward. Let me keep these hectic, busy years. Let me wrap this precious time in a bundle to carry with me always. Freeze this wonderful, beautiful time in my memory. Let me remember my children’s faces, their touch, their innocence, their sweetness.

But above all, help me to remember the sacred treasure that these moments are and the goodness of my Lord in choosing me to live them.

Shayla Bentley - April 17th, 2015