Will I Remember?

Will I remember the little things? The way we filled up our time, the little moments of joy and trial? Today we went to the grocery store. What a joy to be there with my two kids who smiled at me, rode along and made it a fun errand, instead of a burden. What a joy when I came home and Eli tried to keep up with me going in and out, back and forth to bring the food in. Every time I came in, he climbed up the two steps and came in, just in time to get back on his hands and knees and back down those two steps to follow me out again. He helped by bringing things back out to the car that I'd left on the floor in the kitchen. Will I remember the laugh that Shelly and I got at watching her bus sail past our stop, then turn around and come back? Will I remember that Shelly and I played hide and seek yesterday, and she got scared when she couldn't find me? Or that Archer was the sweetest boy EVER for the whole evening last night? He did his homework, this time without a fight. We played yahtzee and I secretly loved challenging him with math questions when he didn't even realize he was practicing math. Does it matter if I forget all of these little moments? They probably will forget, I remember almost nothing from my elementary school years. What will they remember?

I think all of that doesn't matter, at least not the details. What matters is the picture it creates when the painting is finished. Maybe not finished, but further in the process of completion. Does one brush stroke in the painting matter? Not as much as what you see when you step back, the whole picture. The picture I'd like to paint for them is a mom that enjoys them, loves them and wants to hear what they tell me. A mom that is willing to ignore the laundry to play games. A mom that loves Jesus and wants to tell them all about this great love that he has for us. A mom that's willing to learn with them, not just lecture at them. Am I painting that picture with each little brush stroke that will disappear into the greater story?