Can I tell you a secret?
I am in awe of mothers.
The hand-holding, brow-wiping, life-changing women of the world.
I love how mothers create, bring life into the world, nourish souls, tie the shoelaces of the future.
I love how they wrestle about where to send kids to school, and what to get for Christmas, and how to take the seed of a life and grow it into strong, tall faith.
I love the way they laugh about too much poop and mountains of laundry and the beautiful chaos that they somehow keep spinning in orbit.
I love how time etches memories across their faces, like little lines in an extraordinary story, and the way their eyes light up when someday someone calls them, “Grandma.”
I love how they throw their arm in front of you at a sudden stop in the car even if you’re not their child, even when their hair is silver, even when nursing and diapers feel like so many moons ago.
I love how even women without children {I’m one} somehow feel the need to nurture, to grow, to pour themselves into the next generation like so much water that just never stops. Mothers of the heart if not the body.
I don’t know where you are this morning but I wish I could cup your face in my hands and whisper this, “You are a good mother. You are making a difference. You are beautiful.”
Then I’d drop my hands and smile at you. And in a moment you’d be busy again doing what you do and I’d watch the miracle.
The miracle of motherhood.
The ordinary-extraordinary.
The divine with a little dirt under its nails.
Jill Churchill said: “There’s no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one.”
And with all of you mother-wonders out there?
I don’t think I’ll ever stop counting…
* I first shared this post on (in)courage last Mother’s Day and I’m thinking of it {and you} again today.
Would you like to encourage a mama in your life? May I invite you to consider the Mother Letters ebook as a gift from your heart to hers? {Delivered instantly so you can still send it today.}
