top of page

I Love Being the One

Sickness has been running wild through our home the past few days and slowly taking down victims one by one. I - the mother of the brood; the one who never gets sick; the one who has an immune system made of steel - was the first to surrender to its clutches. Curled in a ball, bucket on hand, sleeping the days away - I spent the last few days pretty miserable.

And all the while, I'd hear them, "Mom, you ok?"

"Mom, you good?"

I wasn't.

Everything hurt.

But I knew - they needed me to be ok. They needed me to "good."

Commanding an eye to open, I'd search through blurry vision for their faces in the room.

"Yes, kid. I'll be fine. Just a flu."

And with that assurance, they'd leave to build another fort or ask Dad for another snack.

Except for one. He'd linger.

The love he has yet to be able to verbalize in his eyes.

A "tough guy" on the outside - but Mama's little man where it counts. hit him - this horrible plague of flu-gone-wild...

In the middle of the night...

All over his bed...

And the floor...

And the pillows... get the picture.

"Mom, he needs Dad."


"He's sick."

"I'll come. I'm doing better."

Loaded down with rags and buckets, I descended the stairs.

First, we cleaned him up and got him back in bed.

Then, as he lay watching, I got down on the floor and started scrubbing.

"I'm sorry, mom."

His voice broke as words left his mouth.

"I'm sorry you got to do this."

Ah...the reason he wanted his dad.

Mama had been sick. He didn't want to make her worse.

"Baby," I replied holding back my nausea as I scrubbed, "it's my joy to care for you. Loving you is the best. I love that I get to be the one to clean up this mess and I love being your mom."

And I meant it.

And he knew it.

And in that moment - I felt Jesus wrap His arms around this tired Mama and her scrub bucket and whisper, "Daughter, I feel the same way about you. Don't ever forget that. I love being your Father."

Friend, I don't know what you are going through. Maybe your weekend was as messy as mine - or maybe it's been even worse.

Maybe you are tired - physically tired, mentally tired, or maybe the kind of tired that seeps into your soul and makes your feel like you have nothing left to give.

Wherever you are, whatever you are going through - know this:

The Father LOVES you.

And He CARES about you.

He DELIGHTS in you.

And if you will call on Him - He would love to come into whatever "mess" you are facing and help you "clean" that up too.

Because that's just the kind of Father He is.

2 Corinthians 6:18

"And I will be a father to you, and you shall be sons and daughters to me, says the Lord Almighty."


bottom of page