June 8, 2015
Mama's Work Hard...in Every way.
Strong. Yes, I have
always considered myself to be a strong girl, a strong woman. In fact I have prided myself on it. Oh, I can
dress up and be feminine and beautiful with the best of them, but so often I
felt just as beautiful rolling up my sleeves, getting dirty and accomplishing a
hard days work. I believe in hard
work. I’m good at it. But I never defined it the way that life has
defined it for me recently, and oh how I would rather be doing yard work, scrubbing
toilets, or any other manual labor job….you name it, I’ll do it. But that’s not
the plan for me. Not right now. No, hard
work for me is no longer defined by dirt under my nails, calluses on my hands,
or long active physical experiences. Hard work for me now consists of a completely
different kind of endurance, digging out weeds much harder to find and conquer.
Calluses on the heart and spirit, that help me stay tough, allow me to press
forward. Endurance of the spirit, the
kind that can be accomplished only through the strength of my Savior Jesus
Christ.
“Mama, can you hold me?” words that are music to my ears, at
the same time leave a bitter taste in my mouth. How desperately I want to pick
up my sweet boy and hold him close to me. Oh, if only I could will my arms to
have the strength to lift his tiny body, throw him in the air and swing him
around. But that strength and control left me 5 weeks ago. I very awkwardly
hobble over to the couch, dragging my numb, stiff leg behind me, inviting my
little boy to climb up on my lap where we can snuggle. He is content. For a
moment I start sinking into a black hole. What kind of mother am I that cannot
even pick up her small child? My children deserve more/better. He reaches up
and touches my face. His soft hand, tiny, familiar. I reach up and touch his
hand, gently holding it in mine, and feel myself begin to rise back to the light,
leaving that dark hole of sadness and self-pity beneath me. I clasp his hand a
bit tighter and hold on desperately, as if this 3 year old boy is my life line
to that light. I look down at him, as if in response he looks up into my eyes
and for a moment I see myself through the eyes of my child.
I am his Mama. I am strong. He does not measure my strength
with how fast I can run, or how high I can throw him. My strength to him is
measured in love. He does not care that I have to sit before we snuggle, only
that we do snuggle. He needs to feel safe and loved, secure and happy. So long
as I provide those feelings for him I am strong. I am Mama. His love for me
does not diminish because my body struggles, but thrives when my heart is open.
He feels safe and secure when I provide an environment where the spirit is
present, a Christ centered home. To accomplish this most vital goal does not
require the dishes to be done or the house to be spotless, the weeds to be
pulled or for me to fit into my size 2 jeans. It requires my heart, my will, my
humility, my love and my submission to My Savior Jesus Christ and the hard work
He has planned for me to do. My strength is defined not by the weaknesses of
the flesh, but by the willingness of the spirit. My strength , every ounce of
it, physical, emotional, spiritual abides in Jesus Christ. I am strong only as
I submit cheerfully and gratefully to His plan for me. I am strong in His
light. I am strong in my faith in Him. I am strong as I bask in the gift of the
atonement that He has lovingly given. I am strong as I give all I have and all
I am to Him, to my babies, my husband and all those I can reach. I don’t know what the plan for my body is,
but I do know the plan for me is to succeed gloriously in teaching and loving
my family, serving and keeping my covenants, ultimately returning to live with
my Heavenly Father again and basking in the Light of Christ for eternity.
Strong. Yes, I am a strong woman. My strength is my faith In
Jesus Christ. I am learning to love this newly defined hard work where the
simplest of physical tasks takes concentration and exertion. The real work takes place inside. Learning to let the spiritual master the
physical, dispelling the dark chatter in my head and replacing it with positive
words of light. Understanding my true worth on a level that I have never
discovered before.
I wrap my arms a little tighter around my sweet boy and feel
him nuzzle into my love. I am a Mama. I
feel the warmth of my Heavenly Fathers
arms wrap and tighten around me, and I
nuzzle into His love. I am a child.