PASSING THE TORCH, CAREFUL, IT'S HOT

  
        If you peek into my house today, you might think it looks sort of empty.  After all, it is a rather large house for two people, and you probably wouldn't see all that I see.  For example, if we walked out on the back deck, you would see a well-used gas grill, but I see much more.  I see a cute little five year old girl looking earnestly into my face as I frantically watch over the sizzling burgers. 
 I hear her troubled little voice as she hesitatingly utters these words,                     "Mommy, I think I'm becoming a virgin."  I see myself juggling the burgers that I almost dropped as I try to compose myself enough to reply.  "Noooo, Sweetie.  You were born a virgin.  What do you mean?"  I see her confused expression as she explains. "Well...I don't think I like meat anymore."

          When I walk into the guest bedroom, I don't always see the full size bed that sits so predominately under the window, but I see two little twin beds and the little boys who knew how to stretch a 10 minute bedtime ritual into a thirty minute marathon of questions, songs and prayers.  Let's face it, there may be nothing more profound than the prayers of three and four year olds.  I wonder if they were just playing one of their favorite games of "Stump Mommy" because that is often what they did.
         On the night that "Daddy Fogle" passed away, it was obvious that the boys had loads of questions about Heaven.  The room was lighted only by the gentle glow of a night light, and one question was quickly followed by another, and I could tell that Stephen was troubled by something.   I should explain that he was always my little climber. Agility and athleticism just as much a part of him as his blue eyes.  The questions kept coming.  "Will we be angels?  Will we have wings?  Will we be able to fly?"  But one that stumped me was Stephen's troubled and frustrated query. "Will there be trees in Heaven?" 

Hmmm, that's a tough one.  Then I remembered the verses  that describe a river, the throne of God, a street of the city, and the tree of life.  None of that description (in Rev. 22) makes me think of floating around on a cloud, playing a harp.  After considering for a few minutes I was able to tell him (with conviction) that there would indeed be trees in Heaven. His tense little shoulders relaxed and a smile lit up his face as he said, "Do you think God would let me climb trees?"  I always try to be truthful with my  children, so I gladly answered, "I don't see why not."
         The sun room is filled with visions of all four of the kids playing Liverpool Rummy with blood-thirsty glee.  I treasure every moment of motherhood.  Even now, as they are all grown and living in other States (I don't want to hear any more complaints from friends that their children live an HOUR away) I am comforted in knowing that each of them (and now three exceptional spouses too) live lives of honor and value in the families they are building. 

           This is the first Mothers Day where I have the joy of seeing one of my own children embarking on this same incredible journey of motherhood.  I am passing the torch to my children's generation knowing
full well, that they will get scorched a little as they carry on.  But the joy is also unsurpassed.  And, of course, now I get to embark on the journey of grand-parenting which is essentially the fun parts of parenting without the annoying bits like "responsibility". 

        I am up for the challenge.  So...Happy Mother's Day, to my children!