Children have to be the greatest gifts God can bestow upon us.  Neither health nor wealth can hold a flame to the joy of having children in our lives.  My children show me every day how precious, sincere and perfect life can be if only viewed through the eyes of a child. I know that being a “domestic engineer”, my paychecks are in the form of hugs and kisses and dandelions picked from the yard.  However, as priceless as these gifts are, I am really talking about the unconventional blessings our children give us.  Over the past 12 years, with all five of my children, I have been secretly blessed with countless sleepless nights, more stomach flu’s than you can shake a fist at, and endless wars-of-will over bedtime.  Not until recently though, did I ever appreciate them quite as I do now.  It never occurred to me that even in these less than perfect times with my children, a blessing was among us.

 A couple of years ago I had the humbling honor of hearing one family’s tragic story which has forever changed me.  I do not even know this family, but their experience opened my eyes forever.  This family had a 3-year-old little girl who came crawling into her mommy and daddy’s bed one night and died within 15 minutes of snuggling in-between them.  No cause of death was ever determined, and she passed away quietly in the comfort of her parent’s bed.  Ever since the moment I heard about that family’s tragedy, I have not stopped thinking about them and the depths of the sorrow that they must live with every day since the loss of their little girl.   

 While I cannot even begin to understand the good Lord’s reasons for such tragedies, I do know that we should all be taking lessons away from them.   I now see very clearly that I am so fortunate that my children are even alive to fight with me about bedtime or color all over the walls with a sharpie.  I am so privileged that that the severity of the illness that strikes our home is the flu and asthma.  Now, events that used to be a test of my patience are some of my most cherished moments.

  In my world, the fact that last night I laid in a rock hard bed for three hours so my 6 year old could fall asleep after a bad dream is one of the most precious gifts this life has to offer.  We laid there together in the still of the night, restless and anxious.  He held my thumb, as he always does, until it was pruned from the moisture of his tiny little hand.  My back was killing me, I was exhausted, and yet I truly believe it was a gift from God. 

 I may not know much, but I can assure you that there is nothing those parents would not give to have a sleepless night with their little girl because of the flu or an unscheduled, three hour snuggle session because their little one had a bad dream.  I once thought of nights like this as the dreaded, never ending, battle of bedtime, but I now see it for what it is really worth; a fleeting moment I may not be able to capture again and an opportunity I am not guaranteed to experience again. 

 For that, I am eternally grateful.