What I’ve Learned So Far

“Mom” had to be a title given

A space to be trusted

But boy howdy.

I remember the first time you said it.

My horizon line grew and the sunsets over the field Poured in like golden rays.

Your eyes questioned

As they do.

My heart leapt and wept

As it does.

Like both they never should have too

But they do.

And to some degree,

I think they always will.

There will always be a bit of brokenness in the whole, but there always has been.

And what a joy it is to be broken together.

And I’ll pray with you every night for every nightmare.

And I’ll hope with you.

Even if you don’t believe in any hope yourself.

And I’ll beg God each day to settle your soul

To take some of the pain,

But I also pray you can see the strength you’ve gained from the pain.

Your wiser than others your age.

And there is so much in a simple smile, which had to be explained could exist.

And in your every up and down,

Yours and my own,

I hope to remind you-

That sometimes the sweetest hours are the cool morning rays after the has night faded away.

And my dear,

I didn’t get to hold your tiny hand

I don’t have a video of your first step,

But I hope to be there the day you finally start to feel safe.

The day you find salvation.

The day you don’t stop asking why, but find some peace in it all.

The day of the big game.

The day of your first job.

The day he asks you to the dance.

The day he gives you that ring.

The day you graduate.

The day your dad cries as he walks you down the aisle.

The day you become a mom.

Because God gave me the chance,

the gift, to be your mom, a mom to you in this short life.

With all my faults and failures,

I’m sorry for each one,

But I hope you never doubt that I’m beyond grateful.

Grateful

To hope with you

To hope for you.

To pray with you

To pray for you.

And there’s a grief we will both carry forever I think.

There will always be a weight in our smiles.

There will be a big heartache in the joys.

But I never want the house to smell different.

I want to bottle your laugh.

I want to heal every tear that falls.

Understand every scar.

I never want to go back to not knowing the patter of your feet coming down the hall.

Watching you dance to the music inside your head.

Hearing you sing and pray to God in the quiet of your room.

I never want to stop finding your trail of drawings.

Stop hearing your boots click down the pavement.

And I know I’ll miss cleaning up the princess clothes one day- and when that day comes, I beg God to heal the places I can’t reach.

I ask Him to guide you through the scars I can’t see.

And finally my dear, when you no longer live under this roof, I hope you are known by two things:

Your love for Jesus

Your love for people

And that you never are without remembering that in your rights and wrongs, highs and lows, faults and successes, joys and sorrows-

there is always a squeaky door that will open and guide you back home.