Firsts and lasts.

My oldest (now 9) used to climb into our bed every single night. Without fail, her tiny feet would pitter patter their way down the hallway and then she would wiggle her way between David and I. I thought this would last forever until all of a sudden this past year it didn't. I noticed her feet stopped shuffling to our room in a sleepy haze. Instead she now keeps the covers over her head and doesn't want to be woken by sun. She's happiest sleeping in and in her own space. So last night when I heard a lately unfamiliar sound- my oldest girl trying to find my room in an half slumbering state- I pulled open the comforter and made a spot to wrap up in my arms. I wiped the whispy curls from her face and thought, "this could be the last night I get this." And it really could.

As moms we celebrate their every first. First bath. First steps. First words. And in the bustle of it all- in the sleepless nights and caffeine fueled days it's easy to forget- their will be a last. The last time they grab your hand as you walk into the store. The last time they ask for a bedtime song. Even the last time they groggily find their way into your bed and push you to the very edge of the mattress.

And it all makes my heart ache. How fast the time seems to fly between those firsts and lasts. Even when though some days feel like they drag on--- other moments make me nervous to even blink.

Lord, help me steward these days well. The firsts and lasts and the in the middle of motherhood. It can all feel so wildly ordinary- and yet I know- this is holy ground. The sweetest sacred space that I get to walk in as I raise these babies. Give me what I need to do it well and be faithful. I love you. Amen.