I am raising a strong-willed William. Every day, Wm. Graham pushes me as far as he can possibly push. He uses all his three-year-old might and shoves with reckless abandon. And I get closer and closer to the edge of that cliff. That cliff we call Motherhood. The view is amazingly breath-taking…when you aren’t right on the edge. Holding on with your toes and praying you don’t fall headfirst into a spiral. When you can breathe and enjoy the moments, there is nothing like motherhood. But this strong-willed, creative, passionate, dramatic, loving, disobedient, stubborn, intelligent toddler wants to see how I will react when I am out of the comfortable viewing area and headed toward destruction. He laughs as he watches my toes curl and my arms flail. He snickers as I attempt to balance. Wasn’t I just near that machine that eats quarters and promises spectacular sights from a safe distance? And so I cry out to God. With exhausted toes so curled they can’t hang on any longer. I beg for just 1 more inch of grace. A 1/2 inch of empathy. Or a 1/4 inch of understanding. Please grant me 2 1/8 inches of kind words. When I want to scream. Cry. Hide. Jump? And the Lord gives me a yard. A few inches at a time. And I lie down next to this child’s bed, all 5 feet 6 1/2 inches of me stretched out and still praying as he sleeps. I can’t imagine even one day without him.
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