Same Love, More Love, Different Love

So I was thinking about my daughters-in-law this morning and feeling very blessed to have two such wonderful girls married to my sons. I think about how much Chesed is the perfect fit for Jeremy and how much Maureen is the perfect fit for Jordan.

I hear lots of horrid mother-in-law/daughter-in-law stories. And they are just that - horrid. Two women loving the same man - for different reasons.

I had a conversation with my 5-year-old grandson, Jack, a few days ago as he was sitting at my kitchen counter drawing volcanoes.

Jack: Amma, who do you love more - Daddy or Granddaddy?

Me: Well, I love them the same, but the love is different. Your daddy is my son - my little boy all grown up. The love I have for him is a protective love. Your granddaddy is my husband - and the love I have for him is a chosen love.

Jack: Hmmmm . . .

Jack didn't seem too impressed with my answer.

Me: You'll understand what I mean one day when you get married and have children.

Jack: Well, Amma, even when I get married, I'm gonna love my mom more. I will. I just will.

Then he went back to drawing volcanoes.

His words reminded me of conversations I had with my two boys long before they were married. Back in the day when they were little guys. Yeah, they thought they'd always love me more, they just would. They thought they'd always want to live with me and they thought no girl would ever steal their hearts from me. That would be yuck.

But their perspectives changed. Their hearts were turned - even stolen. That's what we pray will happen in the lives of our boys. We try, even in the middle of our sinfulness, to give our sons a role model for choosing a good wife. One who will help and not hinder, one who will encourage and not break down, one who will do him good all the days of his life.

Men forge manhood - but we, in our roles as wives and mothers, are the models for our sons' future wives. We try to be what they will one day want in a wife.

If we're wise, we realize that we give them their first glimpse of womanhood. We realize that as they grow up under our tender mothering, they will one day need a tender mother for their children. We give them a picture of what to look for.

That is a sobering task.

I have often asked myself over the years if I would want my sons to choose someone like me. Would I want them to have the kind of wife that I have been for their dad?

I'm thankful for the goodness of God in bringing these girls to my sons' attention. I'm glad my boys love these girls more and different. I am glad those girls stole my sons' hearts . . . because in their stealing, God gave these wonderful girls to me.

I am blessed beyond measure.