I was in second- or third-year university, and in a serious relationship.
A mutual guy friend said to me, “you’re going to make a great mother one day.”
I can’t remember the circumstances that led up to him saying those words. I knew it was supposed to be a kind remark, but it kneed me in the gut.
What he meant as a compliment, I took as a curse.
“No man wants to marry a mother,” I blurted back.
For years I’d struggled with the mis-understanding that I could only get a man interested (and to stay) if I used my body to convince him. There was nothing about the nurturing, mothering characteristics I held so deeply inside that I thought were worth a man admiring. If I showed too much care, kindness or maternal instinct, I supposed I’d end up alone.
What a tangled web we weave when we only have our own thoughts to believe.
I’m not even sure where along the way I became convinced of this un-truth: that as a woman it was more admirable to chase after a career than faun over the desire for family. This idea, along with the one that my ‘body-is-power’, shaped many decisions in my early adult life. Many of those decisions have made me who I am today.
Would I do them again?
Perhaps allowing the softer, feminine, nurturing side of myself out of hiding would have led me down a different path. At least one that resonated more with when I feel the most like me.
My nurturing outlet these days is my sweet nephews. Three little faces who bring me such joy.
Their laughter is mine. Their tears are mine.
Their questions about life and pain I get to help answer.
Just recently, my brother-in-law commented that I "look like a natural" holding a baby in one arm, while cooking and corralling toddlers at the same time. This time it wasn't a gut kick. More of a yearning heart was my internal response.
And so, I am thankful for that one time, someone told me I’d be a good mother.
Kneeling down on the shower floor
This isn't the first
I've been here before.
Not many of my own tears left to shed
The shower faucet rains down on me instead.
Overwhelmed. A heavy weight.
Take deep breaths. You can't stay in this state.
At least that's the voice that is loudest
But God, I know your words would be different.
I can find it so hard to hear you,
It's not consistent.
So much I've forgiven and been forgiven for,
I try to remind myself, I don't need a pity party,
Those are for victims, I'm not one. Not anymore.
Follow the 'unforced rhythms of grace',
And don't forget to 'seek his face'.
I know the stuff that's supposed to secure me,
So why, oh why, does it feel like you're not working?
I really changed my life for you God,
What else do you want from me?
I don't like questioning that.
It's rooted in resentment.
I'm sad I don't have children.
No spouse. No home of my own to live in.
While I know it's untrue,
I feel like the block has been following you.
I realize, Lord, this sounds like struggle & strife,
But most days, I do love my life.
A lot of the 'big stuff' has been dealt with
What's left now is like lint on a sweater.
Sure it's still wearable,
But it could be better.
Lord, set my mind free from the rabbit trail of despairing thoughts.
Instead, in your grace, love & peace is where I want to be caught.
Up, up and away.
My spirit in a divine dance
With yours - Spirit, Son & Father.
Written: March 10, 2019
A chill in the air - but the sun says SPRING. So here's my little corner of the world for this month (so far):