I Wonder

As I sit in my over-sized chair and stare out the window in my living room, all morning I've gazed at the elementary school across the street with wonder. 

I wonder what it will be like when I walk my chubby-cheeked  boy and big-eyed girl to the door of their elementary school. Whether the school in my view or another, the day will come. I will walk these souls to the classroom of a school and leave them to be entranced by the knowledge they will inhale, though taller and wiser and more fluent in speech, they will still be my babies. My precious, captivating, miraculous babies. 

I may be able to put it off for a year. Maybe two or three, if I can convince my husband that home-schooled kids are NOT freaks, but inevitably they will fly from my coup. 

I wonder what my life will be like when I don't wake up to the sound of small feet running wildly on a hardwood floor. Or walk into a pink room only to find a wide-eyed beauty on her tummy, elbows locked, anxiously staring over the black and white paisley bumper awaiting her morning rescue. I wonder what I will do to fill my time when I'm not rolling on the floor with my sweet girl just to get a giggle from the deepest pit of her belly, or reading book after book after book, or folding tiny socks and pajamas. 

I wonder.

I cherish when the little body sitting beside me in our chair wraps his fluffy, creased arms around my waist and flails his yogurt-covered face into  my lap and says I Yuv You as I lean down to kiss his uncombed head of hair.  What will this wild, dirty-blonde haired boy accomplish in his life? I wonder.  

My prayer is the verse his daddy has claimed from the Lord to be our sweet boy's anthem. Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.  How will he come to know the Lord and what kind of ride of mercy will he take? What nations will he reach and how will I trust the Lord in using his life? I wonder.

And I wonder what sounds will bring me as much joy as those that come from my munchkin. My princess, who tugs on my sleeve as she sits propped by the big, over-sized pillows of our chair with all her effort focused on gaining my attention.  The sounds that spill from her mouth delight me more than the most beautiful of melody pouring from a stringed quartet.  i love the giggles that escape as I nuzzle my nose into that squishy belly and watch her hands flap aimlessly in the air. And the coos and squeals that shrieks as I work to take in all the kisses her slobber covered neck hold and work my kisses to her tooth-less grin. 

I wonder what moments in my future will allow me to see the goodness of God in such a tangible, evident way. I wonder. I wonder how she will experience God's richest goodness in her life and what type of outpouring she will choose to give back to him. 

And I wonder how tall Noah will be. 

Six foot two like daddy or will he surpass him? 

I wonder what shade of brown Kayt's  locks will appear as the sun bounces off of them while running through the sprinkler. 

Will we let it to grow long and beautiful, or keep is it short and manicured?

I wonder.

I wonder where all the tears I will cry as I drop my babies off at some elementary school will fall. Surely they will be plentiful enough to bring moisture to the tulips in the dry west Texas spring. 

But as God has increased my territory over the past few years and brought more delight and blessings to my life than my mind could ever have dreamed, I wonder what he has in store for the future. 

I wonder. 

I know with all certainty that there will be one, if not a thousand, moments in my life I will long for the chair-sitting, wondering days back. But sometimes, don't you just wonder?