Tuesday, May 13, 2014

seven ways my daughter healed me...

may is a busy month in our home.
just as soon as we celebrate the day we vowed to love each other til eternity, we turn right around and celebrate mothers everywhere.

then just days later, we celebrate the day we were blessed with an angel from above.

it's whirlwind of celebrations.
days i can barely hold all the joy stored up in this heart of mine.
moments i cherish long after the day fades into the next.

i can deny it no longer.  in seven days my girl turns three.  {sigh}.
the passage of each season is bittersweet.  i long to cuddle my sweet baby and inhale deep the intoxicating smell of baby breath.  yet, i am absolutely adoring this season of conversations and fierce independence.

i'll never know how in the world God saw it right to bless me so richly with this child.
i was a woman with deep hurt and a battered heart.  wounds that had festered and lies that had morphed into truth in my life.  

when you drink deep the endless well of your child's heart, life springs forth.  giving new meaning to the scars you have carried for so long.

until one day, you look long at yourself in the mirror and realize you are completely healed.

today, i reflect on seven ways my girl has healed me.

seven days until #holidayharper turns 3!

for as long as i can remember, i have been on a diet.  i think the first one started in the fifth grade.  sad, i know.  but words, do in fact, break the spirit.  and they have a tendency to stick like glue.  when we found out we were expecting a girl, i boldly approached the Throne seeking guidance to raise her in the absolute value of her self-worth.  as we claimed psalm 139:14 for her, the weight of every syllable fell heavy on gaping wound of my own heart, filling the cavern with Truth.

from the moment i knew i was pregnant until today, i lay down myself.  i relinquish my way and my will to make way for her.  mothering is about self-sacrifice.  there is no room for selfishness when nurturing this tiny girl.  sure, there are days when i want to lock myself in the bedroom and get lost in a good book or movie.  but each day, i battle hard to lay myself down and serve her in the way she deserves.

most days my house looks upside down and inside out.  i'm learning to embrace the mess.  at least as long as i possibly can.  a home is meant to be lived in.  and living means dirt and fingerprints and paint and play dough and glitter find their way into every nook and cranny.  the more i cling to the false notion of perfection and a clean house, the more i strangle the joy out of these days.  there will always been laundry to fold and dishes to wash and toilets to scrub.  but there will not always been bubbles to blow in the front yard and carpet picnics and picking dandelions.  

they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  i can choose to define my beauty by the world's false standards.  or i can choose to believe my daughter when she tells me i'm so pretty.  she watches me apply my morning make-up.  she pretends to do the same.  she brushes her hair and dances around.  she giggles in the mirror and declares she is beautiful.  i dare anyone tell her differently.  for the King is enthralled with her beauty.  and mine.

patience is not my forte.  ask my parents.  or my husband.  i like things to move at a tempo that is fast and productive.  when the pace slower than i would like, i get all tangled up and irritable.  but a determined toddler and a time schedule do not mix.  in those moments, i am trying to slow down and relish in the moment.  most often, she teaches me something during those times.  lessons i would have missed if i had rushed past it.

i suppose i used to be a fun person.  maybe.  but life and circumstances have a way of causing you to take life a little too seriously.  that is where i tend to fall most days.  however, this girl of mine is showing me how to loosen up and giggle again.  i'm finding that giggling is good for the soul.  and tears of laughter can heal wounds you forgot you had.  we spend a lot of time dancing and singing and goofing around.  there are days i laugh so hard i fear my sides will split wide open.  and then i realize my heart already has. 

on bended knee at the foot of the Cross is the only way i know how to be a mama.  by seeking Him, i am learning to mother her.  He made no mistake by giving me a daughter.  i have no doubt He sent me her to heal wounds He never meant for me to endure.  

words cut deep and can bury themselves in crevasses you don't even know exist.  yet, Jesus has a way of uprooting those lies and planting Truth in the gaping cavern.  and before you know it, life burst forth.  a life more blessed than you ever imagined.

ask me how i know.

No comments:

Post a Comment