My heart is full. I have received so many comments from my last post, and I am encouraged to keep being honest and real. We all have hurts and struggles; what good are they if one can't learn from them or encourage one another? Despite all that is ugly and piercingly painful, my story has purpose. My story has a reason. If one other woman can realize she is beautiful, a treasure, and more than enough, than this blog has served its purpose.
I don't consider myself an expert. I don't view myself as a Biblical scholar. I have no Psychology degree. But I have been and still am living through a life change that one doesn't foresee as a little girl playing dress-up in mom's high heels. You also don't imagine coming home to an empty house, day after day, while standing at the altar in front of 250 of your most treasured friends and family. When you bring your baby home from the hospital, you don't think about him saying "bye-bye, momma", without any hesitation or concern or sadness. He is spending time with his daddy, and this has become his normal. Nonchalantly, he drives the miniature cars over the ottoman, knowing you will be making an appearance sometime in the near future. But now, he doesn't expect you to stay. He is with his daddy, and you have no place in this playworld of his. Oh, he will hug your neck so tight and bless you with kisses when you see him again, but that isn't happening now. And that hurts.
So many women are hurting. I'm not the only one. You may have been told you aren't good enough. You may be trying to fit in with all the other moms, but something just isn't right. Maybe you can't lose that extra 20 lbs, and you feel like a failure. Maybe you are in a job that provides exceedingly well for your family, yet you feel guilty for pursuing a career and secretly want to be that stay-at-home mom. Maybe you are the stay-at-home mom who secretly wishes she could curl her hair and wear a crisp, Ann Taylor suit just for one day. Just one day to be looked at as something other than a cookie-giver or bottom-wiper or nose-picker or laundry-folder. One day of feeling like you are important. Maybe you are the mom who has children that need extra-loving care, and you hate yourself for daring to wish for a day away from it all, just one day. Maybe you are the mom who just got back from the doctor with news that shakes you to your very core, yet you can't fully grieve because a husband is on his way home and the kids have a project due and how in the world are you supposed to bake 5 dozen cookies before tomorrow? Maybe you are the woman who desires to be loved, honored, romanced, yet you are sick of cheap dates and empty promises and "I will call you tomorrow"...and tomorrow never comes. Maybe you are the woman whose children have left long ago, yet you wish for one moment you could be needed again.
Maybe we all need to realize that one hurt isn't more important than another. As this Christmas season draws closer, I become more aware of Christ's love but at the same time the rawness is more tangible and real. I'm forced to face the reality of being single, separated, solitary. But you, my dear sisters, have your own hurts as well. Mine are no more important, more dramatic, or more devastating than anyone else's.
You are a treasure. You are worth it. You are not alone, nor are you a failure. Your children may not tell you now, but you are the saving grace in their little world. Your husband may not whisper encouragement to you this evening, but your grace and selfless love is not unnoticed. Your family may be caught up in personal escapades, but their world would shatter if you were not in it.
You are loved. You are a child of God, and you matter.
Your season may be painful, but there is a dawn of hope.
You aren't alone.
You are worth fighting for, and Someone has already fought for you.