December 15th—that’s the day the Lord orchestrated for our daughter to enter the world on the outside. This little girl who brings such light and life to our family.
I will never forget when they put her on my chest. The first time I touched her on the outside. A crying, beautiful baby girl who then snuggled into me and calmly went to sleep. New to the outside world—calmed by listening to my heartbeat through my chest instead of through the womb.
Motherhood is the best.
Each day I think up about a thousand things I want to teach her and a million I need to tell her before she goes to college or to live on her own. And I think: I have time. Then, she meets another milestone, I pack away her newborn clothes, and I become afraid I will blink and she will be standing there in her cap and gown.
Yet, she remains calm. Collected. Simple. And being.
In a culture motivated to do; my little girl just is. She has no agendas (besides eating and sleeping), no schedules to keep, no to-do list to check off. She has all the time in the world to stare at a fan or learn every expression on my face in order to imitate them later.
And she trusts. She may whimper here and there to get my attention; but she already knows I will be there for her. She knows she will be fed, cuddled, protected, and provided for. She does not fret all day nervously waiting in hopes I will come through. She knows her daddy and I love her.
Before I held her, I thought so many times about how motherhood would be such a wonderful ministry pouring my wisdom into the next generation. Then, I had her. And as she is cuddled up in my arms even now; I think:
She is the one ministering to me. The Lord created this little human to teach me about what it means to “be.” He brought her into the world to show me a practical glimpse of what it would look like if I would choose to trust Him fully. To rest completely in His arms, to know He knows what is best even in seasons of doubt, and to trust He will take care of my life because He is sovereign over it. I can rest. I don’t have to prove myself to Him in the same way my daughter doesn’t have to prove herself to me. She does not earn my love. She has it because she exists. I love her. Not because of something. I just love her. My love is present because she is present.
Even on sleepless nights, long days of nursing, cuddly days where she isn’t satisfied being anywhere else but in my arms, she is loved.
And I know that there will come a day when she will mess up. She will disobey me and will end up hurt. I will do things that upset her. She will frustrate me. She will choose a way that is not right or good for her. But will my love ever change for her? Nope.
So much of what I have learned from her presence is that the ministry of motherhood has little to do with me ministering to her and much to do with her ministering to me. She is exactly who God created her to be in her purest form.
Oh to have that kind of faith, to trust that completely, and to be that pure once more. She makes me want to be a better person because of her presence in my life. She’s changing me from my old self to my new self. And isn’t that exactly who Christ is in our life?
I know her sin nature will catch up to her one day. But for now, the ministry of motherhood is teaching me what it means to be loved by a Father who loves us unconditionally and does not withhold from providing for us—even if we don’t enjoy the process of His provision. He’s a good, good Father.