When the girls were little…

When the girls were little, they would jump on their dad’s back and ride him like a horse. Once he took my good pillows and strapped them to his knees because the floor was getting too hard for comfort. Ruined my pillows, but what roaring laughter! I can still hear it.

When the girls were little, they would go outside and play for hours, climbing trees and finding frogs and lizards and butterflies. They would bring them inside for the night or find them a temporary home outside. Once a huge luna moth spent the evening inside. It was terrifying because she was carrying an egg sack and I was deathly afraid of caterpillars…

When the girls were little, our home was full of laughter and singing. Oh, it still is when the girls are home! But it’s an older, grown-up kind of laughter – the kind that knows life isn’t picture perfect but it’s still good. The kind that knows that God is still good even in the hardship. Yes, we went through hard things back then. But giggly girls made everything sweeter.

When the girls were little, my husband and I would play music together. They told us later how they would sit there outside the door to the music room and just listen. “One day, I want to be like my mom and dad.” Our middle daughter picked up guitar because she wanted to play with us. But then in a moment of pay bills or else, their dad sold his drum set that had been in boxes for years. We all cried. He bought another set last year though – a testament to the gifts and desires from God that never leave.

When the girls were little, we had friends who loved us. We had family close. Then we moved away and my girls made new friends. My husband was back to the place he called “Home”, and I was happy to get him back to the things he enjoyed. But it took me years to be okay with where I am now. I lived so much in the past and even as I remember all these things, the tears flow down.

Life changes. Relationships change. But those days…those were the days I will cherish for all time as I do with my son now. He is eight, while his big sisters are all graduated, one married with a new baby and the other two working hard toward lives of their own. He is the sweetest boy, yet very shy and longing for a best friend to play with more than homeschool moms want to get together. I found a note he wrote to God not too long ago that read, “Dear God, I want a brother 9 or 10 years old.” I cried.

I remember the good old days of raising our girls, and now I am seeing our little boy become lonely. What a difference! I used to hear the saying “It takes a village” and I hated it. But now, I wish I had a village. I wish my son had people who loved him like my daughters had growing up. I wish we weren’t estranged from family. I wish we had friends who valued and pursued us like we had when we didn’t fully realize what we had. Friends and family that would drop in unannounced and didn’t care how clean the house was. Hayrides and firepits, park days, birthday parties, and mom’s nights and riding with crazy friends to the zoo. I wish it didn’t feel so hard to connect with other homeschoolers here.

When the girls were little, we were a happy little family surrounded by people who loved us. But you never truly know why you must move away until you find that not everything was as perfect as you thought. God in His sovereignty lifted us out of the place of comfort, and opened our eyes to things we didn’t know and to new experiences and lessons we needed to learn.

We’ve been broken. Bruised. Battered. Through the fire. And still going through it. God is here and He’s not done yet. Pruning our hearts and characters. Growing us. Changing us one by one.

When the girls were little, I wasn’t as strong as I am now. I wasn’t as brave. I didn’t live my life on purpose. I was indifferent. I was complacent. I tolerated things I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t confident in my own skin. I’m still learning, but I’m not the same person I was.

I am thankful for those good old days. Yet something in me believes the best is still yet to come.

Life isn’t perfect and life isn’t fair.

Forgiveness doesn’t always come easy. Reconciliation is even harder.

One day at a time…

The memories will always be there.

And in my heart, there stays a longing for the days…

when the girls were little.

🩷🩷🩷🩵

I wrote a song called “These Few Short Years” for our girls when our oldest was in her senior year and I realized just how fast the time went by. You can listen on my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/reel/1051617462497976

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Anna De Lay

I am a wife, homeschool mom, musician, and songwriter; but most importantly, I am a daughter of the King. My heart’s desire is to draw closer to God and bring other people with me! Truly, there is no greater joy.