Sunday, May 12

being a mother.
nothing...ever...not even compare.
except Jesus.


forgive me for being silly,
but i am weeping as i write
this.  i love my children so.
we've loved and fought and
yelled and cried and hung on
to each other. and screamed
our loyalty and watched each
others' backs. and cried
and hugged and stood
together through thick
and thin.

we've won and lost.
failed and succeeded.
and when it felt as if the
entire world had gone mad,
we stood like soldiers.
refusing to be bent and too
broken to rise above the
seemingly-impossible ordeals
of life. the ashes. the holes.

even when i took pills
to cover my wounds of
terror and shattered dreams,
i never let go of my children.

i laid in the dark next to them,
and held their hands, and
whispered devotion and pride
in their ears.  and read them
books and sang to them. and
reminded each one that Jesus
was EVERYTHING...and if they
missed Him, the glories of
life would  be lost. completely.

i have four, beautiful birth
mothers to thank for my sons.
they pushed them into the 
world, and laid them in my arms.
and Heaven rained on our
broken-hearted souls.  will's
and mine.  and washed away
our tears.  life didn't turn out
like i thought, but my children
have carried me through deserts,
and taught me to dance in the

and i throw
my arms around each
of you. and thank you,
humbly, for praying for
us and sharing our victories
and caring about our losses.
you have loved me inspite
of my failures...and been
warriors at our sides. 

every woman
is  a mother.  to a
child or a pet. or others'
children. have a beautiful

p.s.  "with special devotion
and love to colben."

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