Saturday led off with my oldest losing a tooth before the biscuits ever considered browning. The sun set as we patched a wall and checked the youngest for symptoms of a concussion. Bloody noses, scraped knees, band-aids, various boo-boos, and reluctant boohoos are only small speed bumps on the quest for fun with boys. Two brothers. They’re Rough and Tumble, coming to blows one minute and best buddies the next.
When the boys aren’t getting carried away pretending to be sumo wrestlers or saying things they may or may not mean in a heated moment, there’s something heavenly to their chatter and laughs. For as much as I want to soak in their childhood years, this other world of imagination and impossibility where Mom’s kisses cure all, they want to know all about long, long ago. Like when their parents were children. You know, the ‘90s.
Nothing seems as exciting as the tales of their father fishing, playing baseball, and getting into trouble. We all laugh to think of Papaw or Nana scolding Wade, now the no-nonsense, towering presence over everyone.
Sunday’s drive home from church was another trip down memory lane when Josey said, “I think Mom probably got in trouble the least, then Dad, then me.” His lighthearted voice trailed the windy road and stopped with one look at his little brother. “Wiley is the one who gets in trouble the most now.”
Wiley, the fella whose only word was “Mom” until well after the age of two, raised one little finger high into the air.
“Indeed, I am.”
Indeed, he probably is.
But he’s also the one who gives the most hugs.
As his mother, no amount of mischief or mistakes could keep me from loving that boy or my other. Again, it’s something heavenly. Just a glimpse into the mystery of God that He reveals to us through the joys and beauty of creation.
From the very beginning, God’s children have always had obedience issues. There’s no short list of folks vying for “Biggest Troublemaker,” but He is the Good Father. Despite those failings and shortcomings, the Lord loves each of us so much. I can’t imagine how much it hurts Him to see our pain, the weeping and wailings of adulthood and society: devastated relationships to wars. In the same breath, the one He breathed into all our lungs, I know it must please Him to hear His children laughing, helping each other, getting along like family.
I pray we all do a better job of this.