These writings are for the imperfect person searching for more of the Perfect God.

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Love you mostest

 Oh, those faces.

From a mama's heart, you've been there.
Watching your baby sleep, while tenderly stroking your index finger on the roof of their button nose and gently around their freckled little face.

Fascinated with the miracle and beauty of each and every delicate detail of their soft and scrumptious features.

There's a boundless peace that ushers into a mothers heart at this very moment.
An indescribable emotion that's not fully activated until this very first moment occurs.

It's also an indescribable emotion that never seizes to exist with each passing month, year, decade- still stroking the pillow creased face at every stage of life.

But then...

There's the days in between the sleep filled, peaceful moment.

Even at this very moment, in the faint background, I'm hearing echos of arguing and controversy on the trampoline, riding on wings of the wind through the window screen next to me.

They've woken up!

Days of exhaustion
Days of chaos
Days of frustration
Days of fear
Days of sibling rivalry
Days of worry
Days of doubt...

Will I ever feel equipped enough?
Good enough?
Sufficient enough?
Worth enough....
To be responsible for the weight of these unique and individual souls in which God has entrusted in the palm of my hand?

How often I fail to make the right, the wise, the intentional, the strong, the transformational decision for them.

How deeply I recognize these three dependent little people deserve the best mother God has to offer.
Nothing less than the best for these three little ones.

Yet, God chose imperfect, flawed me?
With each decision, reaction, response, I'm tormented with the stark reminder I have the challenge of either bubble wrapping their fragile souls or breaking them like the egg that slipped onto my kitchen floor from the fridge this morning.

The mama guilt is tormenting, isn't it?

Nothing else in life has greater capability of reaching into the deepest reservoir of the human heart.
Especially after a...

failed reaction
failed response
failed decision
failed impatient moment

And just when the enormous weight of failing at this thing called mamahood begins to root itself in the garden of my belief system, I hear a familiar gentle whisper in my left ear...

"I love you mostest..." I hear.
You see, Shea has an on going game of I-Love-You's, with me.

"I love you"

"I love you most"

"I love you mostest"

"I love you unconditionally"

And the first to arrive to the unconditionally part, wins.
And then I see it.   The same moment I experienced the previous night while delicately and secretively stroking his sleep-filled face.

I see it again.
Love and Forgiveness.
These two go hand in hand, don't they?

There can't be one without the other.

Jesus spoke of this when He said those who've been forgiven much, love much.

And those who've been forgiven little, love little.

Children forgive well and love even better.
With all my failures, all my incongruncies, all my flip-outs...
forgiveness flows naturally and effortlessly from these little people with boundless and endless unspeakable love.

They've lavished me with the gift to love, simply by offering an on-going moment by moment blessing of forgiveness.  Had I originally gotten this mama-hood gift down perfectly, I would of missed the treasure.