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Am I feeding my children first?

April 4, 2012

Oh yes. This was so good to read: Why the kids really need a little red hen mama

“The children get fed first.
If there’s any left over,
the dogs get it.” ~ Mark 7:27

She turns to me, face framed in tendrils tangled and I look into that upturned face, freshness with a dash of freckle. I brush her cheek: Who gets fed first in this house?

Do the children get fed first, before phone calls and dishes, before errands, emails, ministry, to-do lists, hobbies, cyber-surfing, before all things seen? Does life stand in line behind the young and the needy, take its turn after their hungry souls? Are my children deep nourished?​

Nourished with me. With laughter and hugs and shared stories, with music and dancing and poetry and literature and art and nature and wind and sky and all of the God-Glory.

Or do I feed them scraps off the floor?​”

Some days I struggle with this. I know I need to take care of my basic needs of sleep and food (and exercise, but that’s more difficult for me to do than the first two, and I do struggle with going to bed at a reasonable hour, and making a point to nourish myself throughout the day).

Time for bed for me, as tomorrow I’m striving to feed my children first. Surprisingly most of my plans for tomorrow were cancelled. Though it was tempting to fill my day with others, I need to be home with my boys. Can I wake up before them so I begin with quiet time? Eat all of our meals together? How about homeschool after breakfast, then go for a real walk with Rusty? Help Simon to take a nap right after lunch, rather than later in the afternoon? Eat dinner before our book club tomorrow night, so we can go to bed when we get home? How can we quickly wind down, so we DO fall asleep as peacefully as we did tonight?

Tomorrow, I must put aside my phone and my email, so my children have the best of me, rather than my scraps, and what is left over.

“I’ve stood in line and this is my one glorious turn to be a mother and the real world is one mighty beautiful place, a place to feed the children first and go hug our men and squeeze-tickle the kids and run free down back lanes, gathering up wildflowers and sun and smiles to nourish the all starving along the way. Dogs can go find for their own bread; ​

Life’s too exquisite to serve souls discarded left overs.

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