Mother~Mine

Everyone has a mother.... she is an irrefutable fact.
I have one.
I am one.

Such a precarious perch we maintain as mothers.

Once assumed, this role, this path..this hat we wear to signify our changed position in the world becomes such a defining parameter that we often forget we are just girls.

Girls.
All of us.

Pigtails and Pinafores. Ballet shoes and Barbies.
Cutoffs and Cartwheels. Ribbons and roller skates.
Barrettes and books. Puppies and polkadots.

I often ask God why he gave us women the ability to carry a child in a season in which we are still children ourselves. I haven't gotten a definitive answer to that yet but have come to some conclusions over the last few decades watching my sons grow into manhood while I grow up with them.

Repeatedly over the years I have heard, in some form or other, this truth:

"God becomes all we want,

when we realize He is all we need."

As the last of my sons work their way towards their twenties I am reminded over and over again that there is ONE model, and that is God himself.

Like David says in the Psalms:

"The name of the Lord is a strong tower. 

The righteous run to it and are safe. "

~ Psalm 18:10 ~

The name of God can be taken for himself.

Who He is defines all that there is.

The refuge I have as a girl raising my sons is found in Him alone.

Awake my soul...awaken to the truth: He is all there is: far above all the wisdom of the earth.

All that remains...is this.... He NEVER fails.

It is from the safety of that truth that my mother raised me, and where I take strength from as I raise my sons.

My mother, a girl. She grew, this girl, into a beautiful young woman and married and gave birth to five children over a ten year span.  Life flew by, her youth spent, poured out on us kids and those God brought within the reaches of her influence.

The girl remains still.

Her hair is grey now, wrinkles line her face, her hearing is going and she gets worn out more easily. 

Her hands remind me of my grandmother's hands, and that startles me for a second.

However, I look into her face and catch glimpses of a soul that does not age. 

The older she gets the more clearly I understand how the aging process is a stripping process. 

Our skin becomes thinner and our souls enlarge with all the living.

We are stretched... as we grow in grace and wisdom and humility.

These are the lessons of motherhood.

As Christ becomes more, we decrease. 

As God takes up more room and we make more of ourselves available, surrendering and bowing down, laying down our LIVING lives... the girl reemerges. 

She has always been there

She is His.

Has always been.

His beloved.

His great passion. 

I see my mother more clearly now from middle age. But what I find fascinating is that I am seeing as one GIRL to another. One beloved to another.

The struggles, the differences, the comparisons, the failures and successes fade.... 

We have the gift of one life. 

I was gifted with her...

He chose Her for me... to walk before me and as time passes I see we are walking side by side.

We are His. Intended and purposed. 

For His Glory alone.

 

I love you Mother -mine.

Your life is a priceless gift. 

Treasured you are!

I am wishing you a Happy Mother's Day from my girl heart to yours !