"I am going to OH tomorrow for a school reunion that will be this Saturday. It's been 9 years since we've had one. I'm secretly hoping that the other girls have matronly shapes, too. (: I dug an elegant little purse out of the closet to replace my diaper bag!"
My friend in my writer's workshop sent the above quote to our group. Another writer answered with this email.
"And, by the way, matronly shapes are a sign of a noble calling. Go in delight. Would you really rather be a slender single girl?"
I've been thinking a lot about this. How many times during my children's infancies, had I longed to exchange my diaper bag for my dapper bag? When I would stand beside a young slender slip of a girl, I would think about my pear shape. When I looked into the mirror and see bags under my eyes, I would think about the many sleepness nights. When a friend would tell me all she accomplished in one day, I would think about my interupted schedules. When I would think how young my children were, I was tempted to think that this stage would go on forever.
Now, when I look back, I wonder, Where was my delight? Deep in my heart did I really want to trade? But who would trade?...The joy of first motherhood?...the first baby smiles?...the first baby steps?...the first cute words?...watching them learn to ride trike and then bike?...teaching them to read?...watching the joy in their eyes with a new puppy?...seeing them growing every year and maturing?...would I have wanted it any different? What would I want to exchange? and what for? beauty? fame? a lovely shape? more time for myself? a career? self image? When I'm tempted to change my "diaper" for a "dapper" bag, Lord, help me look at my four blessings. Help me to delight totally in my calling as a mother. After all, according to the Bible, our children are a heritage of the Lord. They are the crown of old men, like arrows in our hands, and like olive plants around our table. What a beautiful picture of the future when I'm feeling discouraged about today! |
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Anticipating my own child's arrival,
Lez