For Awe

There are days, dark days, long days, lonely days of motherhood…where a woman struggles with the purpose of her existence and the loss of individual dreams.  It is an incredible sacrifice, and sometimes a battlefield of wills.

There are choices, hard choices.  What moment and what need takes priority.  Without Grace, it’s impossible and we suffocate under our mental nagging perfectionist critic. 

But the beauty that comes in resting in all that, throwing arms up in surrender of soul and will and all…there’s a restful Peace, reminder, the hidden beauties of a planted seed with unlimited possibility of exponential growth under the care of an ever great discerning Lover.

There are grins lit up under sunlight rays, memories vanishing quickly only leaving vague impressions on the soul, but good impressions.  Deep rooted joy, connectivity with another human flesh and soul that no other bond on earth is likened to.  An unbelievable challenge that asks oneself what life really means, at the end, when all the tasks and possessions and endeavors face their destined end, and only left is the stark reality of death and the vast contrast of a particular kind of Hope for eternity. 

Is it true? That all this figuring out we do for our lives, becomes so seemingly futile in the scheme of a greater story being woven from first to final breath of mankind?  Am I truly so small?

Motherhood only brings that reality bigger, the smallness of it all.

And, perhaps, that is why it is such a gift.  To be humbled to the point of awe past one’s own egocentric story, and encountering the beauty of finding one’s place in a far greater mosaic of stories woven together by the unison thread wrapped around another Story about a Baby becoming a world changing Man to show us a kind of Love and Hope and Grace like we’ve never conceived.

So, today, I’ll simply rest in that.  With arms up in the position of surrender and awe.

Even if that means more leftovers for dinner.

It’s for awe.

M