Four Children vs. Two

I saw a picture of myself today when Olivia was two and Nate was just an infant. Funny, but I don’t really feel any different now expecting the fourth as I did a new mom of two. Not any more tired or frazzled…or knowledgeable. Just a mom, same as then. Well, I suppose my priorities have changed. Some things just aren’t as important anymore (who really cares if the glasses aren’t sorted as I would do them, when my children are putting them away themselves because they love to “make a blessing to you Mommy”) while others have gained in importance (why would I ever want to give away the privilege of seeing my children learn – and love to learn – something for the first time?). But when it comes to looking at them and loving any of them any less than I did the first one...well, that just doesn't happen. It's really amazing that the love I felt for my firstborn, the love that was so strong I thought I would cave in with the weight of it, has multiplied and I feel that love, that tenderness for each of the children. Even on rough days, one will still give a smile, or say something so unbelievably sweet, that the love just surges all over again and I wonder if I can bear it. I wonder if that's how God feels for each of us. That each person born, no matter what we say or do to frustrate Him, He still feels that overwhelming urge to love and protect and care for us. How heavy His heart must feel at times. I hope my "saying something sweet" moments occur more often than the times I offer only frustration.