I hope my children know how deeply the are loved. I hope they know it's there, often buried by my own selfish nature or hiding behind tired eyes. But it's so profoundly there, and my heart aches for them to know, to remember as they grow.
Their mama's love is...
deeper than the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink,
fuller than the laundry baskets beside their dresser,
messier than every room in our home,
louder than two siblings fighting,
more overwhelming than my to-do list,
fuller than the bed we all seem to end up in,
longer than any sleepless night,
stronger than all of the coffee I drink,
sweeter than the chocolate chip cookie I eat while hiding from them,
more epic than any fairytale or dragon story ever written,
more fierce than any evil that might seek to harm them,
and brighter than then sun and the stars...
more precious than any gift I've been given,
more sanctifying than any love I could ever have chosen.
Our days are full of grace and brokenness and I'm sure you know I'm not a perfect mother.
In fact, I'm such a messy mama. I am unkind, I am tired, I am lazy.
It breaks my heart to hear myself sometimes,
and I promise I'm doing my best at learning to be kinder, stronger, gentler for you.
But when it's hours past bedtime and we're all piled in my bed,
I lay beside you, I reach for your hand and I sneak in one last "I love you" before you fall asleep.
And oh, I hope you remember it, little one.
Your messy, broken, imperfect mama loves you.