She made sure that you had enough lunch money before school and that you left the house looking like a decent human being. She helped you search for that prom dress you loved and never hesitated to let you know when that skirt was too short or if you had mascara on your cheek. She could touch your face and know immediately if you have a fever and always made sure you had a birthday cake. She’s your perpetual cheerleader, the supporter of all of your endeavors, short-lived or irrational as they may be, and she’s a large part of why you believe that you can do or be anything of your choosing today.
She’s your mom. Whether you are best friends today, estranged, you never knew her or were only granted a limited time with her, we all have the concept of her being and if you’re a mother now, then you embody that rite of passage to your very core. Ironically, Disney removes her voice entirely for us when we are mere children, as almost every character (Show White, Cinderella, Pinocchio, Bambi, Pocahontas, Ariel, Jasmine, Aladdin, Quasimodo, Peter Pan, Mowgli – to name a few) was without a mother. The role of “mom” is such a very important one. This is not to discredit Dad, however. Dads, you will always be the pillar of strength, the one who can fix anything, the protective force, the superhero. Some parents hold both titles and have equipped themselves with how to be everything they can to their children.
As I set out on my journey through our nightly routine tonight, I noticed something about my 8-month-old daughter – she’s growing up fast, and she’s already to a point where she is so active that she rarely sits still in my lap or falls asleep in my arms anymore for any given amount of time. I didn’t realize how much I missed that until I noticed just how busy she has become. She has recently started resisting bedtime with all of her tiny might, and through the tears and thrashing about in defiance, she eventually exhausts herself. This particular night, however, she was calm and already worn out from the day. I knew it would not be long before she would cozy up with dreams of sugarplum fairies or talking toys or wherever it is that babies go when they dream.
I took her in my arms, all 16 pounds of her, bundled up in her pajamas laced with sweet lavender, and I rocked her and walked around singing “The Colors of the Wind” from Pocahontas (I’m still not sure why this song, it was already in my head today). In a few moments, she was asleep. She was asleep in my arms, and I was so elated with joy that I didn’t realize I had been walking around singing to her for nearly 20 minutes. It then occurred to me that I can’t typically hold an 8-pound bowling ball longer than a few moments without it growing increasingly heavier and I have the urge to put it down. But tonight? 16 pounds of perfection draped over my arms never phased me. There was no burden, no heaviness, no urge to put her down because I had enough. I felt as though I could have held her all night to ensure she slept well, to bring her comfort, to guarantee she felt loved. This unconditional love, this willingness to give and to protect and to comfort. . . this is the unmatched love that we have from God. He wants to hold us close, to keep us safe, to guard our hearts and ensure we know our worth and that we are loved. His love never ends. Psalm 119:76 says, “May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant.”
It was a blessing to find that sweet girl asleep in my arms. I know those days are passing me by with every week, every month, that she continues to grow and change and demand more independence. They are fleeting moments that I wish I could freeze and hold close to me. I pray that she knows how much she is loved by not only her mom and dad, but also her Father in Heaven. I pray that she carries me in her heart, as I carried her before her tiny feet ever impressed upon this world, and as I carry her in comfort and in protection and in love today. So embrace those moments with your babies – whether they are 2, 22, or 42 – you are still the embodiment of home, an example set out from God, and you will forever hold the weight of all that is “mom.”
Praying for all of you moms tonight,
Megan
Blue Withens 