Arrows in Hand

Like arrows in the hands of a warrior
are children born in one’s youth.
Blessed is the man
whose quiver is full of them.
They will not be put to shame
when they contend with their opponents in court.
Psalm 127:4-5

With the sudden arrival of spring, the sunshine has gone straight to my head. Even today, a Tuesday, I was still on a bit of a high from the weekend. A visit with a sister in Christ on Friday, fun with friends on Saturday, and a beautiful sunny Sunday of worship and family time were blessings to my spirit.

At Don's suggestion on Sunday afternoon, we all went to the local Fish and Game Club that we recently joined, where everyone but Abby tested out my pink bow, and we only lost a few arrows. Then we trekked over the muddy trail through the woods to see the under-construction 600 yard rifle range. It was a perfect afternoon for a nature walk, with Daddy pushing the girls in the double stroller while I practiced running in my fantastic new shoes. We raced the last stretch back to van, sweaty and thirsty and laughing together. Back at home, we finished off the evening with baths, grilled hamburgers, and gathering around on the floor for Bible storytime. It was a simple but special afternoon, made all the more precious by the rarity of such moments of just relaxing and enjoying our togetherness.

Monday came and went while the temperature rose. Then last night, a sick little Hayden staggered out to the living room. Daddy bathed him while I changed sheets and blankets and wiped up floors. Thankfully, he returned to bed without any more vomiting disruptions, and we all got a good night's sleep (which I am learning to never take for granted). I didn't set my alarm, but still managed to get a workout in this morning while the baby and Hayden were still sleeping.

While I finished stretching, sweet Lydia came to join me, and her attempts to copy my splits made me smile. Then, ever specific in her snack requests, she asked for "some of Daddy's cottage cheese." I didn't think she liked cottage cheese, but she ended up finishing it, and asking for more...and more. Then while I showered, I heard her at the sink and asked, "What are you doing, Lydia?" She was washing the bowl from her snack, of course! I was touched by her capabilities and charming two year old ways, and counted my blessings as I sat down to nurse the now-awake and hungry Miss Abby.

Suddenly, a loud crash rang through the house, freezing both Donny and me in our tracks for a millisecond, until an unusual scream came from Lydia's room. Donny ran in while I unlatched Abby and followed, only to see Donny run back out, also screaming. A five-drawer dresser had fallen, drawers spewed open, and I couldn't see Lydia.

In the next few seconds, I located her distressed face pinned in the wreckage, pushed the dresser back in its upright position, and lifted a drawer off her helpless leg. Donny asked if he should get the phone (I said no) and helped comfort his crying baby sister while I lifted the other sister onto the bed. There was a deep indentation in her shin where the edge of the drawer had been pressed into her. And...that was it. No breaks, no blood. She was crying, but she could stand and wiggle her toes and hug me back as I wrapped my arms around her and thanked God.

I have heard tragic stories of toddlers being killed by falling dressers, so "never climb a bookshelf or a dresser" has always been a rule in our house - a rule repeated one time too few, perhaps. Or we could blame the backlog of unfolded laundry; when she found her bottom drawer empty of the usual dresses and pants, she had opened higher drawers in an attempt to reach them and find something to wear. Whatever the cause, I thank God for Lydia's doll stroller, which had been parked in front of the dresser and seemed to absorb some of the blow from the falling furniture. The metal frame was cracked and mangled, but dear Lydia was safe.

Despite the morning's scare, the day was peaceful. Hayden slept much of the day, as did Abby, lending an usual quietness to our busy house. I sent Donny and Lydia to the backyard with sidewalk chalk, and Donny showed her how to write the letters of the alphabet. I caught up on emails and business things, folded laundry, and read aloud to the boys for school.

And now that the laundry is folded and tucked into closed drawers, beds are covered in fresh clean sheets, and little heads are resting on their pillows, I am left thanking God for each of these precious blessings. They have their share of trouble and tantrums, but they are also all unique and wonderful personalities who make our lives richer and our everyday moments sweeter.

Thank you, Lord, for the privilege of raising arrows for You, and thank you for keeping each one of them safe in Your hand.