Home of Beverly Wesman, Photograph by Susan Heeger for Country Living
The little room at the end of the hall.
Sitting here
a bare, hard floor
The only light
The yellow glow from the hallway
And the earnest efforts of the moon.
All blurred by my unexpected and unrelenting tears.
This was always a bright room.
It embraced the sunlight.
Its four walls seemed to delight in their task of holding precious little ones.
It was the most cheerful room.
Now. It is silent.
But I hear many things:
The sounds of such precious years
Laughter.
Oh the laughter of sweet small voices.
The giggles as we made tents, or tickled, or played peek-a-boo, or danced…
Stories.
Read over and over again.
And then retold from the memory of a little boy.
Songs.
We sung so many songs.
The sweet simple songs of Jesus that you would sing along to.
Over and over I sang you hymns to get you to sleep.
And of course there was “I’ll love you forever. I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living my babies you’ll be.”
Tears.
Many many tears.
Tears that well up and overcome me in moments like these - when I try to store up every single memory I can and treasure the incomprehensible gift of motherhood.
Tears of a distraught baby - hungry or cold, tired or scared - ones that had me up and running to meet the need and gently wrap you in my arms.
Tears of a distraught mother - brought to her knees in frustration, or worry, or simply not knowing the answer.
Prayers.
Oh, the prayers.
I am so glad there were prayers.
Prayers of that same distraught mother crying out to her all-knowing, trustworthy, loving God for help
Prayers of praise over these sweet children she was given.
Prayers entrusting those sweet children to a mighty God - for their salvation, for their character, for their protection, for their futures, for everything a mother hoped they would be.
Prayers of thanks from a dear little boy who learned to pray here:
“Thank you for Jesus can love us.”
And even where a baby girl said her first “amen” as her mommy prayed over her in her crib.
I think the prayers make this room the most special.
I hear questions asked, and “good night’s”, and “I love you’s”, and Bible stories, and conversations during nap time between a one-year-old and three-year-old…
This was a precious place.
So as I’m hear one last time I pray one more time
And I thank the Lord for providing for blessing for watching over for teaching
And I thank Him, because what made this room special is still with me.
And now I can go to a new home and kiss their sweet sleeping faces.
Good bye, Little Room.
Thank you for holding us.
Shout out: Elissa Toews
(Photograph by Pernilla Hed for Skona Hem)
I love when Elissa’s pinning… And if you love the same things - lots of natural texture, navy blue, charcoal grey, persian rugs and kilims, brass sconces, and a laid back look - give her a follow!
(A bunch of the pictures below were found via her Pinterest boards.)
