On parenthood . . .

For the past ten months I have been changing diapers, washing baby parts, waking earlier than desired to provide nourishment to a tiny body and clapping with joy at each sign of a new development, such as crawling, which brings this diminutive person closer to being a self-sufficient adult, while at the same time not considering that terrifying future wherein my daughter won't actually be this giggly bundle of cliched joy. And, yet, it is only just beginning to sink in the severity of this new role in my life.
I am a parent.
And as such, my responsibility is not solely to provide for the physical needs of this precious child of mine, but to foster her spiritual and moral development as well. And that's a whole lot more than I ever allowed myself to consider before.
Frankly, it gets tiring. The task of training a little person what is acceptable and what is not is not for the lazy, which, I'll admit, is a category in which I could oft place myself. It would be much easier to simply "let that one go," but this is when I remember, her choices aren't the only ones with consequences. If I "love" my daughter too much to discipline her, or I'm too tired to tell her "no" this one time, where will I find her in sixteen years?
Sigh. Life was much easier before I had to worry about this kind of foresight. But then, it was a little more boring, too. And I know, as the days go by, a couple of well-timed swats and stern "no"s will be quite a fair trade in exchange for a disciplined, respectful and cherished daughter who will one day be able to make choices on her own - and not just any choices, but the right, God-honoring choices necessary to live a purpose-filled life.
What an honor to guide her toward this goal!