I started to call this post "Sugar and Spice," since I now have two precious little girls. But then I changed my formula-stained shirt and was reminded that they don't necessarily come with "everything nice." But that's okay with me. And I did get a couple of stretch marks--darn it--just as the old ones had faded away and my stomach had started to look more like 19 than 91. But these little red marks aren't too bad, and to me, they're strange badges of honor, and remind me every time I see them that for a time, my body was used to sustain a life.
Something I can't quite wrap my head around is that this great love I have for these children is destined to be quite one-sided someday. Just as I did, these children that now adore their mother will one day possibly not care so much, or at least want to distance themselves from my influence and smothering kisses. Even if they don't, I doubt they will fully know or appreciate the depth of love I have for them unless they one day become parents themselves.
It reminds me of the marks born by someone else who loved with a depth that was largely lost on the recipients. We can come close, but I don't believe we fully know or appreciate what was done for us--the pain that He bore and the infinite love He has for us. Those scars are a testament...just as are our own for our children.
Something to think about.
Thursday, August 31
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