Yesterday, I visited with a dear friend and her ailing mother at a nursing home. Sandra’s mother Margaret has been in a nursing home for quite some time now. Given that life in a nursing home can be somewhat lonely, Sandra and I knew that our visit would be a great pick-me-up for Margaret.

Over the last few years Sandra has watched her mother decline, physically and mentally. I can’t imagine what it’s like for her to look into her mother’s eyes and see nothing there. The mother she knew disappeared a long time ago. I don’t know what that’s like. I don’t pretend to. In all honesty I have no desire to, but from where I’m sitting it looks like torture.

I’ve been visiting Margaret at the nursing home for a while now and we’ve become friends. Over the course of  my recent pregnancy, Margaret patiently waited as it slowly progressed - commenting on the state of my belly at each visit. She excitedly announced to anyone who’d listen that I was having a baby. It’s quite possible that she was just as excited about the arrival of my daughter as I was. During each of my visits she’d say, “I sure can’t wait to see that baby!” It warmed my heart that she longed for my baby as much as I did.

The day that Margaret had longed for finally arrived. Her face lit up at the sight of my 2-month old daughter Alana. I’d never seen her so “present” as she was in that moment. Margaret looked her over, silently admiring every inch of her tiny little body – her worn hands running along Alana’s smooth skin.

My sweet little girl began to cry. A wave of concern washed over Margaret’s face. But, as Alana began to settle down a peace came over Margaret. All was right in her world once more. Margaret looked deeply into Alana’s eyes, smiled at me and said, “She’s the prettiest baby, you know that?” I couldn’t help but smile back.

As I lay in bed last night, I got to thinking… Placing my sweet little girl in Margaret’s ailing arms was the best gift I could have given her. Seeing her mother at peace for just a few minutes was a gift in itself to my dear friend Sandra. And being there to witness the smile and wonder on Margaret’s face as she gazed into my daughter’s eyes, was a gift for me as well.

God is good. All the time.

My 11-year old daughter Alyssa, is upset with me.

This morning a graduation ceremony was held to celebrate the accomplishments of the sixth grade class of 2009 at David T. Wilson Elementary School. The program consisted of award presentations, farewell speeches and the usual hoopla that goes along with graduation ceremonies. Parents sat in their seats, snapping photo after photo, beaming with pride, reminiscing about a time when the preteen standing before them was just a baby. Of course, I’m assuming they did all of this. I wouldn’t know.

You know, I’m a good mom but on days like this I feel absolutely terrible. You see, I’m the kind of mother that’s involved in her children’s lives. I’m the “Cheerleader Mom”-always there to cheer them on, no matter what athletic or academic activity they’re involved in. I encourage them to never give up, try their best and to do everything with a Christ-like attitude.

Unfortunately, “Cheerleader Mom” could not make it to her daughter’s sixth grade graduation ceremony this morning. I realize that I’m human, that I can’t make everyone happy all the time, but I still feel utterly guilty for not attending such an important event in my daughter’s life. It meant so much to her and she wanted so badly for me to be there, but due to the time of the event, the baby’s schedule and my other children’s morning schedule it just wasn’t possible.

With the birth of my fourth child two months ago, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to juggle things. I can’t seem to manage my time and energy in a way that allows me to meet every one’s needs and to satisfy their expectations. I am stretched to the limit with soothing my fussy baby, breastfeeding, diaper changes and my duties around the house (at least the ones that I’m actually able to get to). I want so much to be the very best wife and mother I can be for the people I love. I guess all I can do is…try my best, never give up and do everything for everyone with a Christ-like attitude every time.

Maybe she’ll get over it.

Congratulations Alyssa. I love you and I am so very proud of you.

Love is powerful. It’s earth-shaking, jaw-dropping, all-consuming. It’s euphoric, a joy like no other. Love is a crazy thing.

Love is the essence of life. Love is worth fighting for, worth dying for. Love is joy. It’s a popsicle on a hot summer day, fresh snow on the ground, wet sand between your toes, tiny buds marking the arrival of spring, calm ocean waves lapping at your feet, a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer, cool rain.

Love lives in the heart of a child. It blossoms and grows. It’s infectious, contagious. It grows rampant. Love is enormous. It’s too big for the human heart to contain, for the mind to fathom, yet my daughter holds it in the palm of her little hand. And when she smiles love bursts through, consuming everyone and everything in its path.