An exquisite pain

Last night, just before I fell asleep, I felt such a sense of dread, as I thought of my children being adults. Oh, how I want them to treasure their childhood! I keep trying to instill just the right balance of protection, preparation, and unconditional love. Times seven. Every day. Yikes! I don't want them to have to deal with all the crap. I feel this way when a friend of mine is pregnant for the first time, and they want me to tell them what it all is like. Or if someone is newly engaged, and wants to know what marriage is like. It is so difficult for me to wax poetic about these truly wonderful parts of life, when I know intimately what sacrafices are required. When I know the slow, painful process of purification that at times feels like a martyrdom. Dying to self is so difficult and painful, and good, and right. How to raise these precious creatures to understand this, to really get them to soak it up, then to stand by and watch them be pulvarized, like wheat being ground to flour. Knowing full well that they need to be purified like gold, and knowing full well how much discomfort they will undergo in the process HURTS MY HEART!! "And a sword shall pierce your heart." Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners!!