on not taking pictures.

​I've been thinking a lot recently about how much life happens and how little I capture on my phone. I find both of my hands completely taken with the business of the kids  and there is no third hand for taking a picture. Josh can do some, but alas, sometimes his hands are tied up too. I hear lots of people say "take lots of photos as a momma, be in the the photos or else you will regret it!" so I pull out my phone to capture more and Luke ends up struggling to chew on it and Elizabeth gets frustrated im no longer playing with her and I think  "I guess I won't remember a lot of things because there's no way I can capture most of it."

And then it leads me to face the reality that I'm NOT going to remember most of it. I would love to record things like Elizabeth calling elevators "alligators", in all sincerity asking for actual flight goggles when we boarded a plane on vacation because skye wears them on paw patrol. The way she says "can i do a tinkle?" when she needs to go potty, and how she asks me to rub her back "with you hand open, mama" at night because she wants it to feel a certain way with my actual whole hand on her. How she dances to a drew holcomb song and calls things "daddy songs" or "momma songs" depending on if its a male or female voice singing them. I love her.

I also love how luke waves at everyone lately with his hand backwards, and points and makes the biggest fuss when he sees something he likes - even though he can't yet talk. I love how he squalks to no end when he sees any sort of white container because he thinks its yogurt, and how he likes to snuggle right under my chin when he's sleepy. I love him.

I know even if I did write it all down and take all the pictures to capture it, my time is so limitted I wouldn't be able to flip through all the memories and remember. So I will forget a lot of it. 

But there's one thing I won't forget. I won't forget the grace that comes after me day after day. I won't forget the grace that is leaving a mark of which I can nearly remember all the details. I can remember all the mornings my feet didn't want to leave the bed because there were messes and stresses too big for me, and His grace propelled me out of there because i knew there was a fountain of help coming. I can remember the moments when getting ready to go somewhere meant a baby biting and tugging on my leg and me messing up eye liner because of it and asking the Lord for a patient response and him doing it in and through me - him helping me respond gently when I didn't feel gentle at all. I can recall all of the sweet promises singing hope and joy to me in the mundane of peanut butter stirring and clothes folding and poo wiping.  

As I sit next to the potty reading books to Elizabeth as she learns to not use diapers, and as pass snacks back in the car for the thousandth time, and as I sing the same songs and sweep the varnish right off of the floor because of cheerios being more fun to throw than eat for a certain little one, the grace keeps me alive and well and happy. As I fight for the time to have dates with josh on Friday nights and plead for energy from the Lord to stay alert and interactive with him in the evenings, as I ask the Lord to bless the efforts of people ministering even though my house is more chaotic than a haven of rest for them, as I set my alarm clock earlier just to squeeze out space for my soul each day and strategically plan child care so I can steal away to get groceries or do life by myself - the grace shows up. And it keeps showing up. It shows up in sunshine each morning and in my babies giggling with each other, and in Josh's help, and in the refreshment of running, and in my earbuds playing uplifting tunes, and in the deliciousness of chobani yogurt, and in the sisterhood of my best girlfriends. 

It doesn't stop coming for me and that's the theme I won't forget. I will forget all the individual sweet things my kids do but I won't forget the God who sent all the sweetness and sustained me enough to savor them. And I'm ok with this. There is a sweet relief that floods over me when I know that even though I'm not taking lots of pictures and writing down all the details and memories- I'm having etched into my mind the most important theme of it all: the realness and goodness of the giver. 
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