Monday Mornings

I light the pumpkin spice candle hoping it's warm aroma will welcome my children down to the breakfast table. Apple streussel muffins are baking in the oven as I pack their lunches for school. I put on soft music to fill our home with the spirit because I remember the feeling of peace that came into our home when my mother played primary songs on the piano. I glance at the clock realizing I need to get upstairs and start waking them up. It brings me back to my own school days. I remember how hard it was to get up on Monday mornings, facing a new day and another week of school. Would it have been easier if I'd had a mother wake me with her warm smile and soft kisses? I think so....but even with my best efforts to sweetly wake my sleeping boys sometimes they're grumpy and don't want to get out of bed- I don't blame them, sometimes I feel like that too.

As I finished up on their lunches I was thinking on these things. Suddenly a feeling of love and compassion came over me. I felt a connection with my children that I haven't felt before. It was a feeling of me being not just their mother but (spiritually speaking) their older sister. Sympathetic to their trials and suffering because I've "been there and done that" not so long ago. I felt the significance of my role as their sister to help ease their burden and smooth their transition into their journey of life. From heaven, to home, to the world. I am the keeper of that gate and my heart aches for them as I think of the world I must send them off into. I hope that the little things I do will soften the sting of the trials they must face. Creating in our home a soft place for them to fall at the end of their day when they're weary from the world.