Swimming Pool Lights and Rear View Mirrors

        With a child in Florida and another in Virginia, our two oldest children communicate through texting.  Our oldest daughter is 22 years old and a month away from celebrating her 1^st wedding anniversary.  Our manchild is in his second year of college.

         They both love their lives.  Michelle is striving to get the “wife of the year” award. (I suggest she begin working on her acceptance speech – she deserves it!) Drew is playing his heart out on the lacrosse field and at every opportunity taking an extra class on line to race his way through college in record time.

         This week I was privy to a series of correspondence through text they recently had.  After the normal pleasantries, they began a walk down memory lane.

         My memories of these two (who are twenty seven months apart) would include: trips to the beach from our little cottage in a red radio flyer with wooden sides; bike rides in baby seats and then their own bikes with training wheels.  My memories include a “talker” and a “hugger.”  Those two were like fish in their grandparents pool and enjoyed library story time as much as walking to Dairy Queen and stopping in the Lutheran church park to play.

         Their memories in texts culminated with Drew’s sentiment:  “Wouldn’t it be fun to swim to the light in Meme’s pool and turn back time?”

         What’s a mom to say?  Yes! I’d turn it back.  No! I wouldn’t consider it.

Philippians 3: 14  “I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me...”

         Paul wasn’t familiar with a rear view mirror.  I think a rear view mirror is a perfect counterpart to our lives.  While we are moving forward we can peek in the rear view mirror and be reminded of things from the past. I’m grateful for the opportunity to move forward and on occasion take a glance in the mirror of memories of our children as little ones and the awe of being a mom.

 CHALLENGE:  Memories often get lost. As precious as the memory; too many years, too many babies later, I can’t remember which child, which outfit or which location memories happened.  I challenge you to stop now and write or log a memory that was special to you this week.  It may seem incidental, but our children may be texting it to each other before you realize.