A handful of women convene in a small room. Hearts exposed. Raw and tender. Burdened for children and grandchildren.
My tear-filled eyes carefully scan the room. I’m the youngest.
I wonder aloud does this, this mothering thing, ever get any easier?
A gentle, yet weathered response. No.
Heads crowned with gray and faces marked with years of familiar experience softly nod in agreement.
My cowardly heart sinks.
This gets harder?
After an hour, our time together draws to a close. Hands of age, strong yet delicate, embracing mine.
A seasoned and wisdom-filled woman prays aloud.
Petitions of a mother worn from countless wearisome roads traveled but strengthened by immeasurable victories won.
Battles fought with faithful courage on feeble knees. Interceding without retreat until triumph arose.
Her courageous words rekindle the fire of motherhood in my soul.
I have been chosen. Selected and appointed.
A mother picked from among the many to nurture the lives of two boys.
For such a time as this.
May my hands one day embrace those of a younger mother, sharing courage.
Hands of hope.
Hands of motherhood.
And my multitudes this Monday are soaked in the deep and rewarding fountain of being chosen to mother…
Sharing mountaintop dreams with one son
While walking through valleys of fear with another
Tending to the hip injury of one child
While nurturing the heart wound of the other
Struggling through mothering trenches with victorious veterans
While holding tightly to the weathered hands of motherhood
Other articles of thanks living you might enjoy:
- .ministry of motherhood. (mindofamother.wordpress.com)
- One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp (james127littleones.wordpress.com)
- The Little Gift that Changes Lives (inspiredbyfamilymag.com)
- Listen closely for Eucharisteo (refusingtotiptoe.com)
- 1000 Gifts (thebensoncrew.wordpress.com)
- Eucharisteo (tiffyface.wordpress.com)
- For This New Year (gibsongirl247.wordpress.com)