Quiver Full

The snow pounded outside our living room window, silently coating the landscape in fluffy whiteness. Inside we were having a cozy Sunday afternoon. Cameron had retreated to the living room couch for a little snooze. I watched from the rocking chair as Jake and Abby gleefully retrieved blanket after blanket to bury Cameron in. He kept right on sleeping as the kids added pillows, stuffed animals, and love notes to the pile. I smiled contentedly and thought of Psalm 127: "Children are an heritage of the Lord...happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them." 

I love motherhood, and I believe family joy is one of the deepest joys you can experience in life. But the joys of family sacrifice and love aren't messages you hear out in the world today. You would be hard pressed to find hope or examples of such on newsstands, TV, or the radio. And there are lots of people who would think I am completely crazy for having a fourth child.

But perhaps such people have never felt the joy of watching their kids bury their dad in blankets during his Sunday afternoon nap.

They probably haven't listened while their little girl led her baby sister down a dark hallway with these reassuring words: "There aren't any monsters, and your big sister is here. And I'm not afraid."

Surely they haven't heard their little boy exclaim, "I love Mom because she's awesome."

I can't think of a better compliment. I'm so grateful for my little quiver full. And I'm grateful my quiver isn't quite full yet.