Most days, I scrutinize every detail of house and homeschooling, working myself (at times) into a tizzy when things are not quite right. I let a dirty stove-top bug me. Or the crayons scattered on the floor. I huff and sigh over finding a broken ornament next to our Christmas tree. I raise my voice for a second or two when I’m trying (for the twelfth time) to explain direct objects. And the list goes on and on. The point? I fail. A lot. And for a perfectionist, that failure is magnified by one hundred times.

Sometimes, when I don’t feel like a failure, I feel unimportant. I feel like I’m wasting my life. I start whining, “I wanna take my family to Disney World! I wanna van that doesn’t make that high-pitched squealing every time we drive it! Oh, and I want some new clothes!” Wah, wah wah. Then, I think, “I should go get a job so we can take all these trips, get a new vehicle and ME some new clothes! Yes!” Then, the Holy Spirit says, “You know what you’re thinking is wrong! You’re here for them…for those little ones who love you so. You’re here to point them to Christ. Not Mickey Mouse.” I’m convicted. Oh, yes, Lord. I’ve been selfish and spoiled. Seeing my children each and every day, at every tiny phase of growth, is worth these sacrifices. My attitude changes. As I sit and rock them in my threadbare denim skirt, I feel like the richest woman alive! I cook them up some yummy soup and cornbread, hear their laughter at the dinner table, and I’m in heaven! I bake up something sweet and listen to their praise and, I tell ya, Paula Deen couldn’t feel as good of a cook as I do at that moment!

I’m busy this time of year. Presents to scrimp and save for, then buy, not because my children expect it, but because they don’t. I want to show them I love them in a special way this time of year. I’m busy decorating and baking and doing all of that Christmas stuff. And, in all of the hubbub, I almost forgot to enjoy these special memory-making days.

Then, I got online and saw the news. Twenty-six children shot and killed (as of this moment) in a Connecticut elementary school.Those kids, gone into eternity! Did someone tell them of Jesus? Did a mother make time when they were small? Did a Sunday school teacher have time to influence them for Christ? Were their parents, like me, busy thinking about the big toy they were going to give them in a few days, and not noticing the quiet moments? The moments that will never come back. Last night was their last night to snuggle them. Did they do it? Last night was the last goodnight kiss. Did they give it? This morning was the last time they’d see their smile. Did they see it? Better question, did they offer one to their child in return?

When I was small, my mom would often have to leave for work before I was up. When I got up, I’d look in the mirror, and, beneath the mass of messy hair, I’d see a big lipstick kiss on one cheek! If that had been the last time I’d seen my mom alive, I would have known she loved me. As I got older, she started leaving a lipstick kiss on a 3×5 card with my name on it at my spot at the breakfast table. I suppose it won’t surprise you to learn that I do that for my children, if I must leave before they are up. I want them to know they are loved, each and every day.

Oh friend, treasure each and every day, each and every moment! Even if you’re given a hundred years on this Earth with your loved ones, this moment is gone in a heartbeat.


6 thoughts on “Lipstick Kisses

  1. Anonymous says:

    I join you in sorrow for the precious lives taken today. I'm so thankful for all my family and so glad that our love is expressed daily in a multitude of ways.
    You are a wonderful mother to your five little ones, and I'm very glad that you aren't leaving them to go to a job five days a week.
    Thank you for sharing these words.


  2. Mama2four says:

    Everything pales in light of this newest tragedy, doesn't it? I know I held my five little ones a little closer last night! Don't be so hard on yourself, although I know that's easier said then done! I am also a perfectionist, but since I started homeschooling last year, I have realized that some things have to slide. Homeschooling is my biggest job right now! And the hardest, I might add. =) You are doing great. ~Cassandra


  3. Thank you, Mom. I love you and it felt then that you were always with me, no matter where you were. I still feel that way.


  4. Hello, Cassandra! I do appreciate these kind words so very much. Thank you for writing them.


  5. Kristy... says:

    This is so sad and tragic. I can't even read or watch anything about it. It is heartbreaking.

    I do something similar in the way that I will put little notes inside my kids pockets if they are staying away over night. Usually they say “I love you have an awesome time” or “I miss you” or something like that.

    I also kiss the inside of their hands and I will close their hand up and tell them to save that kiss for later ….. I do so love them and I feel extra blessed today….


  6. I know, it's just heartbreaking. I've watched some things, but I can't for very long. That's a good idea about putting notes in pockets. I remember doing that for my dad when he had to take business trips. We hid notes in his dress shirt pockets. Mom used to put them in my lunch, too. 🙂


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: