So, last week little things had been building, and something finally pushed me over the edge...I lost it. Alone in the living room, I just had to get it all out. Well, I didn't expect Carter to be waking anytime soon. He did, and he saw me. Immediately he started sobbing as I was trying to wipe tears and tell him that everything really was okay (it was).
"Mommy (sob), pleaaase don't cwy! It will make me cwy, too." Then I felt horrible and shed a few tears for that. Sweet, precious Carter cupped my face in his hands while still boo-hooing and said, "Don't worry Momma, Jesus is wight here."
Bless his sweet little heart. I forgot what it was like seeing your mom cry. Growing up, it did not matter how frustrated I was at the time, the minute either one of my parents began to cry (which did not happen often), it was as if my world was falling apart. They were my strength, and they were breaking.
To this day, I hate it. As a child, sometimes I felt the cause of it. But more than anything, I hated to see one I loved so much hurting. It has come full circle. While I knew Carter wasn't the root of my emotions, he didn't. And his pure little heart didn't know how to help...yet he knew exactly what to say. As hard as it is to watch your children hurting, sometimes I think it is harder for them to watch us.
Those moments are part of life and learning, and I'm so thankful for the innocence and faith that these little ones bring to our every day.
^^^Carter asking me to hold his hand. Thank God for everything this little guy is.
