Arrows are for Shooting...

My husband and I have always loved these verses:

Psalm 127:3-5

Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD,

The fruit of the womb is a reward.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,

So are the children of one’s youth.

 Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them;

 We hadn't even been married five years,

and were thrice blessed.

We were so thankful to be filling the quiver.

I think we look 18, but were 26.

I loved matchy, matchy back then and the kids were too young to complain.

The beautiful plaid material, 60 inch width, for $1.50 a yard,

so I spent less than $5 for the material and sewed the clothes.

On a private Christian school teacher's salary,

it seemed like a huge splurge at the time.

I was so determined to wear the outfits for all holiday events,

the first time I wore my jumper, it was still unhemmed.

Nobody noticed the slightly frayed fabric swinging around my ankles,

but the first person I saw, a bachelor, asked if I was pregnant.

He was gracious enough to be mortified when he found out I wasn't.

He just assumed -

jumper = pregnant

But, at this time, everyone wore jumpers.

As I meditated on the verses above just now,

I realized something for the first time -

 arrows are not meant to be

kept

 in the quiver.

They aren't decor,

they're tools. 

These three children have been shot into the world,

and our quiver is no longer as full.

We were blessed with three more children,

but most likely all six will never live under the same roof again.

The oldest, Jana, is happily married to her best friend

and is expecting her third child.

Daniel works in the computer industry in another state,

but  is in Bolivia on a mission visit.

Bethany is working in cosmetology, living at home.

We never would have guessed, 20 years ago, 

the path the Lord would lead us along,

with joys and sorrows multiplied together.

If another 20 years passes,

and the Lord hasn't returned,

I know that we'll still be rejoicing

about His blessings to undeserving sinners.

And we'll be wondering where the time went,

and how our quiver emptied

so

quickly.