Today's prompt for Blogtember (are you sick of Blogtember yet? Too bad I'm all in, so bear with me.) was: Write a
public love letter to someone in your life. (It doesn't necessarily need to be
romantic.)
I could write a love letter to so many in my life. So, so many. But the two people (two, is that cheating?) that I feel a need to write a letter to today, are my girls. Probably because loving them is coming a little bit hard today, and I'm learning in life that when love is hard, it is then that you need to love the hardest.
Dear daughters of mine,
I love you.
I love you when you dribble pink fingernail polish on the rug. I love you when you pee in your carseat. I love you when you spill sour milk on the carpet. I love you when you write with Sharpie on the wall. I love you when you play escape artist in Target. I love you when you break my iPhone.
I love how you remind me, often, that love is patient. Like when you're 15 months old and not walking yet. Love is kind. Even when you bite me and leave a mark. Love suffers long, survives Mondays, and seeks not its own. Love is not provoked, puffed up, parading itself around or petty. It doesn't rejoice in iniquity, trust me, it doesn't, but it rejoices in truth.
Love bears all things, even 9 months of pregnancy. Love believes all things, even that you can be good when you're not. Love hopes all things...hopes for a bright and glorious future for you both. Love endures all things, even the pain of labor, the ring of fire, the midnight feedings, the explosive blow-outs, the potty training, the Curious George theme song and Goodnight Moon a ba-jillion times.
Love never fails.
But mamas do. Mamas fail. And that's why I'm thankful for the way you teach me about love, but I'm MOST thankful for the way you show me that I could never do it all on my own. Only Jesus has that kind of super-human love. Only Jesus has the strength to love without failing. And remind me to run to the rock that is higher than I....remind me, in your small yet significant ways that I can do nothing in my own power but I can do all things through Christ. Remind me to stop leaning on myself, and to lean on the everlasting arms of Christ.
Everlasting arms...just think about that for a moment, little ones. Arms that will never tire of holding you, of cradling you close. Arms that will never be too slow to reach you, to protect you, to save you. Arms that could embrace the universe, that could hang the stars, that could span the oceans, but are choosing to hold YOU.
Those are the arms that I want you to run to, darling daughters. I will enjoy you running into mine for a time, and I will hold you close and breathe you in, but be warned: there might be times I let you fall. I don't want to, but I might, because that's what mamas do. We fail sometimes. But know this: JESUS' LOVE NEVER FAILS. Never. His arms are everlasting and He's holding them out to you.
With all my heart,
-Mama
I could write a love letter to so many in my life. So, so many. But the two people (two, is that cheating?) that I feel a need to write a letter to today, are my girls. Probably because loving them is coming a little bit hard today, and I'm learning in life that when love is hard, it is then that you need to love the hardest.
Dear daughters of mine,
I love you.
I love you when you dribble pink fingernail polish on the rug. I love you when you pee in your carseat. I love you when you spill sour milk on the carpet. I love you when you write with Sharpie on the wall. I love you when you play escape artist in Target. I love you when you break my iPhone.
I love how you remind me, often, that love is patient. Like when you're 15 months old and not walking yet. Love is kind. Even when you bite me and leave a mark. Love suffers long, survives Mondays, and seeks not its own. Love is not provoked, puffed up, parading itself around or petty. It doesn't rejoice in iniquity, trust me, it doesn't, but it rejoices in truth.
Love bears all things, even 9 months of pregnancy. Love believes all things, even that you can be good when you're not. Love hopes all things...hopes for a bright and glorious future for you both. Love endures all things, even the pain of labor, the ring of fire, the midnight feedings, the explosive blow-outs, the potty training, the Curious George theme song and Goodnight Moon a ba-jillion times.
Love never fails.
But mamas do. Mamas fail. And that's why I'm thankful for the way you teach me about love, but I'm MOST thankful for the way you show me that I could never do it all on my own. Only Jesus has that kind of super-human love. Only Jesus has the strength to love without failing. And remind me to run to the rock that is higher than I....remind me, in your small yet significant ways that I can do nothing in my own power but I can do all things through Christ. Remind me to stop leaning on myself, and to lean on the everlasting arms of Christ.
Everlasting arms...just think about that for a moment, little ones. Arms that will never tire of holding you, of cradling you close. Arms that will never be too slow to reach you, to protect you, to save you. Arms that could embrace the universe, that could hang the stars, that could span the oceans, but are choosing to hold YOU.
Those are the arms that I want you to run to, darling daughters. I will enjoy you running into mine for a time, and I will hold you close and breathe you in, but be warned: there might be times I let you fall. I don't want to, but I might, because that's what mamas do. We fail sometimes. But know this: JESUS' LOVE NEVER FAILS. Never. His arms are everlasting and He's holding them out to you.
With all my heart,
-Mama
