How many times can I write about my daughters before I tire of the same old words of love and adoration?
Right now beside me sleeps a Princess.
She has the curly blonde hair. She has the sparkling big blue eyes so deep and bright I get lost in them. Her personality is feisty yet fun and loving. In her mind, I am Mother Earth, Father Time, and everything that makes her world better.
In the neighboring bedroom, another girl sleeps. A baby growing too fast… Trusting brown eyes that will always remind her father of his first wife. The sweetest most pure smile a person can have… Her life is contained within our home, and everything about her is perfect, innocent, and beautiful.
Within my beating heart an endless flowing spring of devotion, care, and admiration flows for these two little souls. Of all the things God knew I would become, He had a special plan in store for me when I became a mother.
I cannot picture my life without them, though, sometimes, the idea of a month long hiatus from parenthood seems rather appealing; I know I’d long for them like I am gasping for air after just two days apart… I was meant to have them in my life, and I am better because they are here.
I heard a quote on KLove today that said, “First it is impossible. Then it is difficult. Then it is done.”
Never in all my days have I heard something more applicable to my story than this. The meaning of it hit me and sobered up my perspective; God fixes us through trial, He teaches us to trust Him, and then, eventually, things just… Even out.
I believe, as I watch the days grow slightly shorter and welcome the chill of autumn yet again, that everything we have endured the past three years will serve to make us more fit for a world filled with obstacles, struggles, and cynicism. In that way, I am grateful for all I have experienced, and in that way, I am mindful that my role as a single mother needn’t be defined solely by my mistakes, but also, by my victories – for all of it, every breathe from my parted lips, is His.
Jemma just had her first birthday yesterday, and I admit I spent most of the day dwelling on all the hardship I faced in the 365 days she’s been in my arms.
I have to fight back animosity towards her father because the constant tension between us is partly responsible for me missing the prime days of this baby’s life. I was there, but I wasn’t allowed to be fully present, because 95% of my energy had to be used up trying to keep my husband from walking away… Now that he is long gone, I grieve what I missed. I only pray my baby girl doesn’t resent me someday when she realizes I never finished her scrapbook, didn’t take enough pictures, and in the middle of my personal hell, I let these days slip away.
I should have given all my love to my children, especially my Jemmy, because as she has just passed the one-year mark, I will never again have her be my little infant rocking to sleep at my breast, rolling over for the first time, and learning that I am the one person in this world she can count on to meet all her precious baby needs.
Forgiveness must come…
Right now, all I can do is be thankful that the struggling in our home is no more, and each day I get up to start life all over again, I have a new chance to make it right. To do right by my darling girls…
God gives us these chances. I will always be in great admiration to Him for that…
Because, tomorrow when I awake, and I get to see my children smile, I will realize with a renewed spirit that I am lucky enough to have them at all.
I cherish even the difficulties for what they teach me, and for what I can then teach my children… About life’s mystery of give and take away, of trust and forgive, and love without fear… I will show them that even when life does not go our way, and strays far from our intended pathway, it still holds beauty evident in the simplest pleasures:
A child’s laughter. A small hand wrapped around one outstretched finger. Messes on countertops from letting a toddler pour the flour for homemade oatmeal coconut cookies. A prayer to Jesus at bedtime that consists of, “Thank you, God, for ducks and bread, and for the swings at school…” A little girl’s voice as she talks to our Lord, “… and thank you for my Mommy, cause she is beautiful and she loves me and Jemmy.”
I will never again (to the absolute best of my ability) forsake the time I have with my children. Their lives are too precious; stories so new…
Layla causes me to rephrase improper grammar, organize my books as I explain each synopsis, and let her “help” to make dinner when all she’s really doing is killing us with too much salt.
Jemma makes me feel a peace and love I didn’t know before I had another child. Perhaps because she may very well be my last; I adore her so purely, I could spend every moment with her on my left hip and never grow weary.
Motherhood is splendor the likes of which a woman should never abandon, never pity, and never regret. I know I have many purposes to my life, but my greatest is the role I play in my heart, which is whole just for them, and in my head, which understands more each day how valuable this time with them truly is.
We all should slow down a bit and hold our children more.
I intend to do a lot of this from now on. So help me, God; You set me on this journey, Lord, may I make the best use of it possible.
Mommy loves you, baby and sister…
Until infinity finally breaks free from beyond. Until I live my last day…
The Lord is my shield, my protection, and grace for all I have done…
My children are my joy.
Pure, perfectly-imperfect bliss.
I will never tire of feeling that way. Not in a million years. May it be said long after I am gone that the one thing I did best was love my daughters.
That is what I was built to do.