I'm Not Her

Tomorrow I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again.  I love Peter, Paul, and Mary.  If you didn't sing that when you read it, please go back and do it.  Makes you smile a little.

Actually, I do know when I'm coming home.

Funny how we assume things.  My flight is scheduled to return on Sunday evening.  As I was preparing to go, I wondered what if something happened and I didn't make it back.

Did I make a difference in the lives of my family and friends?  Did I leave them with spiritual wisdom that would get them through the rest of their lives trusting the Lord for His faithfulness?

Would I wish I had spent more time holding and less time cleaning?  More time speaking life and less time speaking death?  More time listening and less time talking?

So as I've been packing and marking things off lists,  I've been reflective.  By the way, sometimes I get reflective when I'm about to go in to town to Walmart.

What treasures have I stored up in heaven?  Storing up treasures is not marking off letters on a list.  It is holding daughter who is overwhelmed with worldly acting people who don't care who they hurt.

I want to be the momma who is selfless.

I'm not her.

I want to be the momma who is patient and loving, even when the house is a mess and I'm trying to prepare for a retreat a few hundred miles away, then another one five days after I get back.

I'm not her.

I want to be the momma who isn't looking at the watch when daughter is telling something important to her heart.  I want to be momma who doesn't get frustrated when the help is minimal.

I'm not her.

I'm not her, but I'm working on her, and hopefully she'll be the one getting off the plane on Sunday night instead of me.