On the First Day of 2016

Last night, the last night of a full year, a year rich with adventure and joy, anger and sadness, busy and bored, easy and hard. The little boy worried, as six-year olds worry*, about growing bigger and older and what might come in a new year.

Mommy, I don't want it to change to a new year. What if I'm sad?

Oh, a new year holds all sorts of promise. The promise of good things happening and bad things. The promise of happy things and sad things. But most of all the promise of growing bigger and stronger and more into the person Jesus made you to be. 

But I don't want to grow bigger and stronger. I don't want to turn seven.

My heart screamed I don't want you to turn seven either! This mothering business is a rough one to be in. First they stretch your body to bursting. Then they spend years growing away from you stretching your heart till everything--happy and sad--runs tears. (Or maybe that's just me.)

My mouth said ('cause self-control is a fruit of the Spirit), Of course you don't want to turn seven, you're not ready to, yet. But as the time gets closer you will be ready and you will want to be bigger and stronger and seven. 

Today, we started our new year with cereal and a walk in the woods and up a sand-dune. We were going to take a picture, but the cold zapped the battery. We saw the lake, shivered in the wind, and slid on the ice covered sand. George ran and ran. I've already been happy and sad, aggravated and tired. We've had lunch. Abby finished her homework. George ate an eighth of a cup of coconut oil. Chris is working on a project. The kiddos are dressing up the pets.  I am writing. Later, we'll play a game and work on a puzzle and maybe make some 2016 goals. An excellent start to a full, abundant new year.

*A brief note on six year old worries...
When Abby was six and worrying, it took me a long time to realize that this was just growing pains, the kind of growing pains that make heads and hearts stretch and mothers worry that and wonder if they're messing up their children. Because I was all wrapped up in trying to figure out what I had done wrong, it took me a long time to figure out what to say. 'Cause the Holy Spirit will give me the words, if I'll get out of the way.
Needless to say, Simon's worries meet with a calmer, more prepared Mother, when I remember these seasons come and go. I sorta envy him on Abby's behalf.