Princess Kate and I

We mamas are our own worst critics.  We are also animalistic when it comes to protecting our young at any cost or measure.  God’s given us supernatural abilities to hear the unspoken, to see the details that go unnoticed by most, to calm a raging sea within our children and much more.  We caffeinate, we overcompensate and we give it our all every waking moment of their childhood.  We also have this amazing ability to rally around one another in times of need because we have this underlying understanding, a common sisterhood that seems unbreakable.  We got your back, right? 

Until we don’t. 

As a society this past week we have abandoned our friend, our sister, another mother because of “status” and “standards” and a 30 second film roll.  What we have been quick to forget is that the momentary footage we glimpse is not even a mere fraction of what makes a mother.  We all gasped at the heels, we all scrunched up our brows, we all looked up and down trying to find that post-baby belly, and we all began recalling the hospital gown that left our battle worn behinds on display for all to see.  Then it happened.  We united in numbers too vast to count and we unintentionally began displaying an ugly aggression of tearing down and minimizing another women, another mother. 

Princess Kate and I, we have this thing in common and let me honestly say, it’s painful. 

I sat in a ladies group, a small gathering of women I had grown to trust and love.  But one day I was told that “…you and your husband always match on Sunday mornings.  And your kids are always dressed perfectly – everything about you is so put together…” it went on.  Not in a complimentary type of way, but a bitter one.  My heart hurt for this mama who had shared her struggles.  I understood her and though she couldn't see it, we had been walking a similar path in motherhood.  All I could think of was “if she only knew.” 

If she only knew that our matching outfits are of no credit to me.  I don’t cheerfully rise early, pick out perfectly matching clothes and iron them while I sip coffee.  Not even close, mama.  I drag myself out of bed at the last possible minute because I am.not.a.morning.person.  I spend a solid 30 minutes trying to find anything that comes close to fitting.  Once I make up my stubborn mind, my husband dresses himself to compliment my outfit.   He’s always done it and for that brief moment in time I feel special and seen and reassured that he’s right there by my side – because taking one step in front of a congregation and/or crowd terrifies me every.single.time.  Those kids… girlfriend, if they look put together then Hallelujah! 

My priorities are:

1) Bodies covered +bonus for clothes that don’t have holes or stains

2) Shoes +bonus if they match, socks are optional

          That’s it.  We’re out the door… and always late (sigh). 

But that’s life, that’s motherhood. 
It isn't what it first appears to be if you edit out a small piece of it.  
It isn't what a filtered social media account gives glimpse to. 

And there’s no shame in it. 

I know for certain that “if they only knew” has crossed the mind of the princess.  Why?  Because mamas – no status, title, or prep-crew can change the pain of birthing a child!  Regardless as to how beautiful that red dress looked, how high those shoes were or how elegantly the couple stood there, birth is birth.  It’s God’s design and there’s not a thing we can do to change the course of it! 

The majority of us think of those hours after labor as a haze of Dermoplast, diapers filled with ice, mesh panties, and hair ties.  We could barely help ourselves to a hot shower let alone wave to a crowd.  Our bodies were stretched thin, we bore the pain with the breaking and cringed at everything our bodies did that no-one prepared us for.  One thing is certain, in all our similarities, not a single birth-story is the same as another.  Not a single mother mothers like any other mother. 

Princess Kate is no different.  Her lifestyle may be unlike the general population of parents, but just in the same, each of our lifestyles differ from one home to the next.  Did we ever consider that maybe she preferred grippy hospital socks over heels?  Maybe she secretly desired privacy and to experience the newness of a baby away from the public eye?  Maybe she felt just as uncomfortable as any of us would have felt hours after birth waving to a watching, judging world?  She is human.  She is a mama. 

Where is our compassion, our humanness, our understanding and empathetic ways that we so carefully navigate the rest of our lives with?  Where are the mama eyes that see a little more than the rest of the world? 

Princess Kate in her red dress and heels may not be as un-relatable like we all so quickly assumed.  Because mama, you are beautiful.  Your birth story is admirable.  Every stretch mark and every misshaped, unrecognizable place on your body is lovely.  Every weary moment that you press on and pour yourself out is one worth celebrating.  Whether it be barefoot or heels, red dress or over-sized sweatshirt, you do you.  Because who you are is amazing.  Don’t ever forget it, mama.  And don’t ever bring someone else down to prove it.  Don’t ever compare yourself to another.  Your kids were given you because you in all your glorious mess is what they need.  That is a beautiful, wonderful, indescribable thing! 

I Am Sought After

He comes home to a mama who is worn out from a day of outnumbering.  A mama whose likely not showered, whose hair is all undone and tangled, whose clothes are worn.  A mama whose exhaustion can get the best of her words, whose hunger tends to speak out of turn, whose let her guard down and allowed all the ugly to seep right out of her heart.  But that’s just this mama’s perspective.  Because when you look at it from the view of the man walking through the door – he is coming home to what is his, what is treasured, what matters the most. 

He does it almost every time – seeks after me, like a man of the field whose gaze is held by the amazing creation of his God.  When the door or the curtain closes, he opens them wide, looking for his lover, longing for a moment.  When my heart is troubled and my eyes ready to weep, he simply says it, a few simple words and the flood of it all pours out.  He just looks back at me, compassionately letting the rushing waters pass until the stillness comes and I am me again and I can breathe.  When my thousand words come up short and leave me searching, he whispers one single line that shatters the darkness.  He finds me in a room full and he draws me ever so close, where comfort is found and felt. 

Somehow he looks past all that is distracting in the present places and sees a beauty that is held only for him.  He seeks the treasure that is always changing, because his love for me refuses to change.  As my body stretches and scars and wears, like a seeker, he holds it like something more precious than gold.   Through the mess, he finds a life lived at his side: through the better and through the worse; a life who has held life and who has let go of life – lives we’ve loved, lives we’ve created, life as we have known it time and again.  He finds unpolished nails of the one who is far from polished in any way – but whose hands gently tend to their young, bake his meals, trace the lines of his palms, and knead the aches in his back.  He finds the real me under all the layers of ugly pride and defiance.  And when life throws a wall our way and we hit it straight on, his is the hand whose grasps mine and reaches out to God. 

All this searching for me that he has done relentlessly for the past fourteen years, this pursuit he is on that he will not give up on, it’s done by grace because I don’t deserve it.  I don’t often feel like a treasure worth being uncovered, unearthed.  But it’s how he sees me, the real me and I don't need to deserve it because it's something he chooses to give. 

 

It was all resting right under the surface, but it wasn't yet clear.  I knew God was trying to speak through this man I love so dearly but so many other voices were too loud and I couldn’t hush them.  Then in the darkness of the night, he did it, he spoke it, the river ran and maybe peace could be found. 

Then it came, highlighted in pink, underlined in blue, to get it across and speak it loud, God seeking this unsettled heart:

                “For the Lord delights in you and will claim you as his own.”

                                                                                Isaiah 62:4

My heart breathed deep the sigh of relief, because in the mess of it all, through all the questions and wonderings and wanderings – our God seeks.  He seeks us, delights in us and claims us as his own. 

I read on, because I couldn’t read enough, the words kept coming, the hope kept flooding and then the last verse of 62 stopped me, pounded through my heart, it breathed life into the silence.  The words that whispered louder than everything else, that brought all that I had been seeing into the open and made it clear:

                “They will be called a Holy People, the Redeemed of the LORD;
                                and you will be called Sought After…”

                                                                                Isaiah 62:12

I am Sought After.

Not only by my husband, but by the God of the Universe.  The God who seeks me even more passionately than the fierce passion of my love, my love who loves me straight like a Song of Songs.  The God whose entire love letter to us all is written from Genesis to Revelation, every word breathed upon in love and mercy. 

You are Sought After.

You may not feel like one worthy of a seeker, but you have One and He is relentless in His pursuit.  Yes, relentless in chasing after that heart inside of yourself that feels like it can barely beat one more time.  He sees right past all the things that have messed us up, have undone us thoroughly and He finds a treasure worth finding.  His pursuit is not something we can earn or one that few of us deserve, it is something He longs to freely give to each one willing to be found.

You are worthy of a Seeker. 

Worthy of being discovered and treasured. 

Worthy of being found. 

             

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.”

                                                                        Luke 19:10

“…can you imagine the breathtaking recovery life makes, sovereign life, in those who grasp with both hands this wildly extravagant life-gift, this grand setting-everything-right, that the one man Jesus Christ provides?”

                                                                                                 Romans 5:17

I got into the car for a quick trip to the store.  It was a rare occasion when I could be found by myself and just like the man who, when I’m alone, finds me to capture a moment, there He was.  His voice whispering and being heard.  His words singing the anthem of where my heart rests:

              “I believe everything that You say You are

                I believe and I have seen Your unchanging heart
                In the good things and in the hardest part

                              I believe and I will follow You
                              I believe and I will follow You.”

                                                                                   "I Will Follow" by Jon Guerra

Breathe in, be still and let yourself be found
             by the One Savior who bears the scars of death overcome to bring you life,
             by the One Faithful Father who holds you as the apple of His eye,
             by the One Mighty King who is sovereign and claims you as His own, 

You are Sought After. 



Listen to "I Will Follow You" here