Some entertain angels unawares,
I raised one by my side.
I thank the Lord for allowing me
These years of Ordinary Days
For in them was the Extraordinary
Hidden behind her big, brown eyes.
Years of paradox:
Holding Fast while
Learning to Let Her Go.
My heart is a Polaroid,
Capturing Moments as they fly by.
The faster time moves
The clearer the moments are:
Seeing so clearly the Young Mom
Singing Elvis to the colic baby,
The pigtails bouncing through
Countless kitchen dance parties,
The blossoming young woman
Asking about car insurance.
Seasons slip through my fingers
Like her chestnut curls that
I’ve blown dry and straightened
Over the years, and I try to
Slow them down enough to
Treasure them all up.
Prayers for her Adventures to Come
Fill my mind, and I wonder
How long the mother
Bird watches her baby fly
Before she turns away?
Last year we graduated our oldest. As the Shakespeare paper banner got hung, and piles of books got staged as centerpieces, I found there was so much I wanted to remember. Our daughter took a semester off to read more murder mysteries, play more board games, climb more mountains, and meet more friends for coffee. I supported her wholeheartedly in her quest for a longer quiet growing time. Maybe, secretly, it was because I wanted more time, too.
Threshold Crossing is an emotional business. This was my first born; my only girl. Infertility has a way of seasoning a life that maybe turns a person into a Sentimental Fool despite themselves. I have spent many years, in countless moments, trying to hit pause so I could rehearse what just happened–a child said something funny, made an amazing connection, asked me for help, confided in me– before it slipped through my fingers. I write a lot of things down. I know my biggest enemy is tomorrow. I did my best to catch the fireflies in the golden hours.
I found my daughter being careful and contemplative. I found her walking and not running. I saw her working to remember who she was in Christ. I saw her respecting her education and looking for ways to continue to grow. All things that are the complete opposite of how I was when I was her age, by the way. Beware–homeschooling may break generational strongholds.
I wanted to hold on to these things and study them: How did this happen?
And I want to shout, “Look what the Lord has done!”
It is such a treat to see what the Lord does through us when we’re still growing up. Isn’t it wild that we raise babies while we’re still children? I feel this so strongly in seasons. I am definitely not one of those who have everything figured out. The only thing that I’ve figured out is that I don’t have everything figured out, but there’s freedom there. There’s freedom then to enjoy these people that are our children; to laugh, to listen, and to grow into that guide, philosopher, and friend. Much good can happen when we aren’t trying to be gods.
As I reflected on our homeschool and motherhood through our first graduation, I learned afresh that the Lord loves our children even more than we do. It’s amazing to see all the fruit as our children grow up. I saw that He had seen the desires of my heart and worked through me even on my worst days. If we are known by our fruit it is Pure Grace because, really, she is the Lord’s harvest. The Lord sees you, too. He is working in and through you in very important ways, and maybe that doesn’t have anything to do with a dictation lesson.
All the clichés are true. The time flies. Enjoy your people, catch some fireflies, be patient, establish your hearts, and watch what the Lord can do.
Mariah Kochis 2023
Thank you. This was beautiful to read.