All children possess a hidden talent. Each one wears this title: AUTHOR. Unbeknownst to them, they write unforgettable messages in a mother’s soul that outranks every New York Times best seller. My heart has its own secret memoirs, lessons I’ve received from my son and daughter and two amazing stepchildren.
I’ve learned through them the value of celebration. What a shame when mothers expect their children to all look “a certain way.” It’s a beautiful awakening when we as moms rejoice over each child’s uniqueness. I like Webster’s definition of unique: rare and standing alone in value. There is worth in each one’s passion. Each longs to blossom into their own God-given personality, exclusively designed after their heavenly Father’s plan. How empowering it is when mothers revel over those distinctive traits of personal giftedness that define each child’s one-of-a kind personhood.
I’ve learned through my sons and daughters the beauty of investment. To invest means to offer that which brings a profit in return. Mothers have the opportunity to deposit the best of them into another. For example, the best of me encompasses teaching my children God’s Word and modeling by example. That’s not always easy when we ourselves struggle with difficult emotions.
But all of us as mothers have a common commodity, something NO job – NO divorce – or NO other person can take away: the power of choice. We alone can select our parenting style and how we will or will not exercise godliness and integrity. When we “intentionally” invest wisely, the returned profit is grand! One day they will rise up and call us blessed.
And through my children, I’ve learned the reality and bigness of God’s love. Often women have a hard time wrapping their arms around what God’s love feels like. Mothers are feelers. We desire to experience the Father’s amorous affection – up close and personal. As I have reflected on how much I cherish my own children (even excessively doting over them), I see this is how my heavenly parent embraces me. My children have served as a catalyst in allowing me to put myself in God’s shoes and consider how He (as my heavenly Papa) feels as He gazes upon me, His daughter. In the same way that I don’t love my children “less” if they make a mistake, my Father doesn’t love me “less” when I mess up. His love is constant, unconditional.
Who needs the Internet to inform us about life when we have children? Inside each child resides treasured lessons just waiting to unfurl.
