Becoming 31

I stared at the ring on my finger, glittering beautifully under the light. But I found myself chewing on the side of my cheek in fear for as I close my eyes, right in front of me stared the most daunting role in the world – a wife, a mother. 

Pictures of memories came flooding in like ghouls – vivid memories of her. The woman whose hands were calloused of hard work yet always gentle (and strong) as they held mine. The woman whose deep voice echoed of joyous laughter, of firm discipline, of cries of frustrations. The woman whose knees were marked with wrestling in prayer, how she wouldn’t let go of the Mighty Hands until her petitions were heard, until she was blessed. The woman whose heart could contain vast oceans! The woman whose eyes reflected of otherworldly grace and wisdom. The woman, who, after years of struggles against her own fears, her own insecurities, her own pains, her own shortcomings, have learned to rest upon a Strong Fortress. 

Fear. Realizing I’d give everything to even become half the woman that she is. Fear. Realizing I barely touched the foothill of which she walked. 

But let there be Hope, as I take my gaze off the woman and off myself, and upon the Potter who molded the clay. All things start to fall in their places. Ancient words echoed: “He who began a good work in you shall perfect it….” That all this woman has become was not by her own work but by the hands of the One who created her. 

I cried as I behold the splendor of this creation, marked with the fingerprints of God. I cried as I behold the pathway that He paved through her, a narrow way that I can follow. How glorious is the sight of her that sings – I am God’s. How glorious is God in her life!

#happymothersday