Friday, July 31, 2009


I've been contemplating my role as a mother lately. I feel as though I have done a huge backslide in my life. That perhaps my children deserve better or more. They didn't choose me as their mother. They didn't choose the life that I have provided them. 

Then I think about my life as it was 5 - 6 years ago. I was living in the West End with my ex-husband and my then three children (now there's one more). We had worked so hard for the things we had, a fairly large house in a nice neighborhood, nice cars,nice clothes, nice toys and we tried to sacrifice some things so I didn't have to work. We were members of a nice church made up of young families, just like us, who did good things for those less fortunate. We decided to move to our Dream House, the one that had EVERYTHING we wanted (not needed), especially space, 4000 square feet and an attic to finish, decorated perfectly by me. It was more than enough for us. After moving into that house, things came crashing down. 

Fast forward: All of those things are gone. I have spent the better part of the last 5 years mourning those things, hating myself for many decisions that I made and how they have affected me and my children. And sometimes accepting the consequences that have come with those decisions, but mostly not.

I want to stop right now to say that this does not come out of unhappiness with the people in my life. This comes out of an expectation of what my life should have been like and what I thought was important. And there is a long list of those things. 

Ok, so what I have learned as I watched my kids moving their furniture and building a small fort in their tiny little bedroom today was that it's not about what I have provided them with physically. It's not about how their father can provide so much more for them (and he frequently strives to do so, and I frequently clench my stomach when he does), or where they live, or how big our house is...... 

It's about their character. It's about them watching me in my struggles and seeing how I handle them. 

If we were comfortable, we would never be broken. 

If we're never broken, we never look for more, we stay comfortable.

It's from my brokeness that my children see my strength. 

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