I make the bed every morning. It’s a weird thing that brings me a sense of order. I didn’t always do it, but in the last few years, something about a made bed when I walk into my room settles my heart.
So this morning, as I got ready to take tiny humans to the Winshape Family Day for my big kid, I quickly went to make the bed. Only to be caught off guard with what I discovered.
On the side of my husband’s night stand, amid the chaos that is his bed table, lay two stapled pieces of paper.
You see, last night during “dinner club” the tiny humans went upstairs to play while the adults talked and ate and played cards downstairs. Sometime during the evening, without any prompting, my biggest kid and his younger brother made cards for their dad.
My heart skipped a beat. With a tinge of sadness, cause no such cards sat on my nightstand, I peeked inside. And my heart melted.
You see, it’s not just about the card, or the son who drew it. It’s about the man that it was made for. My man. The one who grew from a lanky teenager into this stable, strong and secure man. The one who has been by my side for more years than we’ve been apart. This man who felt scared and insecure when I handed him a tiny 8 pound little boy years ago. The man who earned my heart many years ago and treasures it even now.
This morning I found a card that shows the invisible work my man is doing bring forth fruit. The late night prayers for his sons, the hard choices of discipline, the extra long nights of work for provision, the morning car rides to school, the tough conversations after dinner time, the sports practices and games never missed. The tenderness of my man’s heart towards his children.
When given an opportunity, my sons choose to make cards to share with their father how much they loved him. With no prompting, no occasion, just the simple overflowing of their hearts towards their father. And that makes my mama heart skip a beat.
As I think about the fact that my son’s hearts are full, I give thanks.
As I think about all the hard work that went into their little hearts feeling full, I give thanks.
As I think about the man pouring his life out as a love sacrifice into those little boys, I give thanks.