I have seven children. The oldest was 18 when the youngest was born. Our house was a hub of activity and the sink was always full of dishes and the line full of clothes. It was busy. Some nights I sank into bed after feeding the baby and fell asleep in less than a minute. Some days my husband and I passed in the hall with one child or another in tow and shook our heads and smiled. Did I say it was busy?
Our youngest is 11 now and the kids are all pretty much self sufficient. They can do laundry and they load the dishwasher. They make their own beds and sometimes, their own meals, and there are only 4 of them at home, soon to become 3.
June is approaching and our daughter from Ottawa and her husband are moving back to town. They are having a baby in the fall. The weekend after they move in, our second son is getting married. Not long after, our oldest son and his wife are having baby number three.
Busy...it has new meaning. I am no longer wiping bottoms, and spooning cereal into little mouths. My house stays reasonably clean. But my mind is busy. There are dates to remember, things I need to tell them, visits to be made, kindnesses and cautions to share....and I pray. The list of things I pray grows longer and longer. When they were little I prayed for health, for willing hearts that longed for God, and I huddled them all around me. Now they have lives of their own but they are still deeply entwined in mine and the prayers cover so much more. I can no longer keep them all at arms length but I can follow them with daily prayers and I can hold them up to God each time one of them comes to mind....and I do. It seems sometimes more busy than the physical labors...but just as I loved raising my small children, I love this time of my life. Mothering is a life long vocation and I am grateful God has called me to it.
The fruit of the womb is a reward.