Sometimes it's Strength

There are days that have found me recently in which sickness has taken a hold of our household. Double ear infections, bronchiolitis, colds, coughs, sore throats, and runny noses have practically been staples here as of late... And that makes the task of parenting that much harder. A sudden longing for being back in junior high, with absolutely no need to crawl out from underneath the covers on sick days... days when your own mom takes care of you by bringing you chicken noodle soup, saltine crackers, and ginger ale.

It's hard enough not being able to determine at which time you get up in the morning- you now have consistent alarm clocks found in your children, and the option for hitting the "snooze" button no longer exists. But when you are sick on top of worn out it makes the tasks of the every day seem close to impossible. And yet, on days like that, on days like today, I find the strength with my children's cries to run to them and aid them in every possible way. On days like today I wonder at my own strength- it's a marvel that I am able to make it out of the bed, let alone take care of my children... (Granted, the house may be left in a little more of a disarray than usual.)

The strength of a mother is incredible. We store away energy and willpower like a camel hoarding water. We rush to our children when they cry for us like a proud lioness defending her cubs. We fight for them and defend them like a mother grizzly- gnashing our teeth threateningly to any who dare to cross us. We cherish their friendship and hold them close (whenever they permit), because we know these chapters will all too quickly come to a close. We kiss their wounds, praise their efforts, and admire their hearts. We are mothers.

With the recent calling on our hearts towards the adoption process, I have begun to pray for birthmothers- with a special aching prayer repeatedly lifted up for my own future child's potential birthmother. I don't pretend to understand the process of being in the position of placing your child for adoption. I don't question the hardship, the doubt, the aching, and the tears that are sure to accompany such a decision... But I also don't doubt that when a woman chooses to place her child for adoption- her heart is for her child.

"You are a hiding place for me; 

you preserve me in from trouble; 

you surround me with shouts of

deliverance." 

Psalm 32:7

The song on my heart...

Some may say it isn't worth it.

That it will be such precious time just wasted. 

Nine months of a life you will never have again. 

Some may call it a mistake. 

Or look on her with shame. 

They may even call her the cruelest kind of name. 

Some will look on her with judgement. 

With piercing eyes, and curling lips. 

They will not understand why she didn't get rid of it. 

But she has seen this time as not her own. 

Not as a choice to be made, but a child in her womb. 

The choice she has made is for her child to have a home. 

I will call this child precious. 

And I will see myself as blessed. 

I will love this courageous woman, who has given him to us. 

And though she may not know it, may never know my name...

I will thank my God with all my heart

For choosing her for me.