Ever since I can remember, I have wanted to be a mom.
I have been richly blessed to have the opportunity to conceive and bear children, nurse and nurture them, teach and train them, laugh with and love them. To be a mother.
Overall, the experience has been what I might call the "great and terrible day of the Lord". By this I mean that, in having loved my children deeply and completely, I have dwelt on the mountain tops and in the valleys.
Nothing compares to the highs that parenting can bring. For me, those moments are the ones that cause my soul to resonate, to ring true. It may be something that happens that is funny or joyful or poignant or transparently clear. These moments are nearly always spontaneous and unexpected; a gift.
In those moments, all is well. I am acutely aware that I am where I am supposed to be, doing what I was born to do. I know I am living my God-breathed destiny. I am deeply satisfied. and flying high.
In the valley times, there is doubt and anguish and worry. The times when my children are sick or hurt or confused or mad at me, I wonder why I ever thought I could, or even *wanted* to do something so important, so eternal, so beyond me.
I worry that, with the current setback, all will be lost---the character I have tried to carefully cultivate, the talents I have tended, the faith I've tried to instill. In these times, parenting seems like nothing more than a big, wacky experiment; a big ole cr@p-shoot. The low I feel during these times can be overwhelming.
But as dark or worrisome as motherhood can be in the worst of times, I would not trade it, sell it, relinquish it. It is my shining life's work. My happiest definition of "me".
I pray that when all is said and done, motherhood would be the thing I take with me into eternity---the precious souls of my children, for whom the Lord graciously allowed me to participate with Him in the creation of life.
(this post may be subject to future revision, as I just re-read it and find it not quite...right)