Not perfect. Never was.
But I love them.
I hope they remember waking up with an extra blanket on when it’s cold.
I hope they remember going to bed with full bellies, even if we weren’t the perfect family eating at the table all the time.
I hope they remember the music. The dancing. The worshipping god and praising in the storms.
I hope they remember that we worked hard, and did our best, and I hope they remember the ‘sorry’ when we failed.
I hope they remember the laughter and the silliness, and that they can learn to understand and forgive the stress and anger.
I hope they learned that people make mistakes, and get angry, but that it doesn’t mean that they’re ‘bad’ or ‘failures’ just forgiven sinners who will try again tomorrow.
I hope they remember the people. Their people. And they continue to build lifelong relationships that provide fellowship and encouragement.
I hope that they can always come home and feel the cares of the world lift off their shoulders for a tiny bit.
I hope they keep talking (even when I wish they’d be quiet!)
I hope they love, and know that they are and always will be loved. Richly and abundantly.
I hope that even when it’s tough, that they can learn to trust and hope in something greater than themselves.
I know they will be ok.
By Robyn Sellars
