I walked into the kitchen to find my husband and two sons; my three favorite men. No one was rushing off to do anything or go anywhere. They were just present. And it was awesome. To some, this may seem ordinary or commonplace. But to know the life of a mother of adult children is to know this constant search for moments such as these – these fleeting periods of time when I can rest in my heart being complete.

I walked upstairs to bed and heard my two boys talking over the click, click, click of their video game controllers. For a moment, my heart found its perfect rhythm in the affirmation that, even though they have very much grown into their own people and most often go their separate ways, their bond runs deep.

I was putting away the laundry when I suddenly found myself in the mix of a wrestle session that had spontaneously broken out between two big brothers and their little sis who was undoubtedly relishing the attention from these heroes of hers who spend more time out of the house these days than in.

The hour was painfully early, but in the dawn the house was quiet as I sat snuggled next to my furry alarm clock, floating in the bliss of knowing each bed upstairs was filled with its proper resident.

Moments. They are what I live for as the mother of two adult sons and a teenage daughter who is more happy and confident in her independence than I ever thought she would be. The little years went too fast. I want more time. So much I do. But to dwell in that truth means I miss the moments that bring it all back and remind me – I’m still needed. And there is so much more to come. It is in these moments when “my soul is on its knees” and my heart whispers “thank you” to the One who entrusted these amazing beings to my care.

I often wonder if they get it. Do they realize that the moment their heart beat beneath mine, I was changed and my completeness would forever more depend on their presence? In thinking about this, I am left humbled and grateful for this unique glimpse into the heart of God – this intimate understanding that He is never at rest, never complete, without the presence of each one of His children. 

It’s an interesting perspective that leaves me feeling both unique and special but also reminds me I am one of many. The heart of God is not complete without me, yes. But what about that person next to me who I’m pretty sure I’m somehow better than? Yup. He or she is just as unique and important a puzzle piece to the heart of God as I am. He leaves the 99 to find the one. 

The love of a mother for her child is fierce, unbreakable and disarming. It can all at once hold you together or leave you in pieces. I pray somehow my children understand their place in my heart. I also pray someday I understand my place in God’s.