I sometimes find myself stepping having an out of body experience when it comes to my family.  While very much in the present, I find myself outside the moment marveling at this amazingly cohesive unit I am a part of called my family.  Years ago, when I first met my husband Karl, he said something that has always stuck with me. "Family is holy," he said. As the years have gone by and our own family has grown, those words have had increasingly greater meaning to me.

From a carefree couple who'd dash off for a romantic weekend in Europe or the Caribbean, we found our weekends slave to kids' sports schedules and household chores. The word "Mom" no longer applied to someone else. She was me! I was now the supreme fixer of scraped knees and bruised egos, the tyrant telling them one minute to read their book (not just stare at the pages) and the next hollering, "Come quick, I see a hummingbird!"

Today, we have three kids, two dogs, one cat, and memories of  countless other pets who’ve been part of our household, including the gerbils and the defective goldfish who was not gold. Fish never did turn gold and was surprisingly hardy despite the abject neglect to which he was subjected.  The children have changed before our very eyes. That boy who entered this world the size of my forearm - his head fit in my hand and feet barely touched my elbow - is now a strapping young man, stronger and to my delight, smarter than I am.  The boy who was the inspiration for my kids book, I Don't Want To Sleep Tonight, still stays up – but now it’s because he’s studying for finals or hanging out with his friends.  The next child who aspired to be all that his brother was, yet had his own unique set of talents (he's the one I wrote I Can Fly for) is even bigger – it’s hard to believe that dark manly voice that answers his cellphone is really my no-longer-little boy.  And the baby who entered the world and made her television debut hours later is still a little girl – but old enough to now raid my closet.  I must say, when I see my sweaters on her – I am forced to acknowledge the heavy lifting phase of parenting will soon be ending for me.

There is a bittersweet taste to the realization.  My husband and I survived the labor intensive times of child rearing.  We are blessed with offspring who are caring and considerate and eager to take on a challenge. I don’t know that any parent has a fixed idea of “what” they want their children to be like when they are grown.  Most of us are too busy just trying to keep it all together.  But as I step back and look at this wondrous thing called “family,” I can’t help but thank God, realizing what He has given me is far more fantastic than anything I could have imagined. 

“Roots to grow & wings to fly.”  The phrase was always echoing in my mind as the children grew.  My husband and I tried hard to help them grow strong roots.  Will we be strong enough to let them use those wings to fly?