Bless you!

I hear this a lot. And it's not because I suffer from hay fever and sneeze often.

While I was grocery shopping with my six children, a man stopped his cart next to mine, put his palms together, gave me a little bow, and said, "Bless you!"

I smiled but did not comment. He was acknowledging that what I do is not easy, but his smile conveyed this underlying message: "Better you than me!"

Which is the overall consensus in our culture today. Children are pint-sized energy-drainers, money-suckers, party-poopers, and trouble-makers. Someone needs to train and teach them (at least for our future's sake), but who has the patience and energy?

I don't consider myself to be anyone special. I don't have multiple degrees in teaching or child development. I am not skilled in housekeeping or management. I wouldn't even say that I am a patient person. People call me 'Super Mom' when I am no more qualified for motherhood than they are, with the exception of this one thing:

I make it my duty– my honor– my calling– to be the one to train and teach my children. Not a pastor, not a teacher, not a relative, friend, or neighbor, and certainly not a piece of technology can take my place as Mom and primary role model in my children's lives.

And if I am to be blessed for what I do, I ask this: 

Bless me with wisdom to guide and teach these children of Yours.

Bless me with the understanding of the gravity of my responsibilities as a parent.

Bless me with faithfulness, so that my words and actions with point them to You.

Every time I go to the store, I'm surrounded by a small crowd of people I love. If that's not a blessing, I don't know what is!