Yesterday was Mothers Day. Ben and the girls wanted to go to the zoo. I went along because, with it being Mothers Day and all, I wanted to be around most of the people who call me "Munner" or some derivative thereof. There were about a gajillion folks at the zoo. Seriously, that many mothers would pick the zoo as the.thing.to.do on Mothers Day?? I'm not buying it. I'm betting, just like me, they wanted to be with their kids. God can work with that.
Oh.Yes! God can work with my attitude of "I love ya'll but pushing the stroller up hill both ways answering questions like "Why does the Okapi only have stripes on its butt?" is not my idea of a relaxing Mothers Day. By the way, I have no idea about the Okapi's stripey butt.
God worked on my heart as I watched my littlest girls scamper through the stream in the children's zoo, holding hands so that neither got knocked around by the bigger, faster-moving kids. From the depths of my soul, to that place where it almost hurts to breathe, my heart cries "Oh, thank you, Jesus, for these babies. I know I don't deserve them. They are so precious. Please let me continue to be their mama for a long, long time." God can work with selfishness.
You know how some women never seem to perspire? And, if they do perspire, it's just kind of a natural "glow" and not really SWEAT? Yeah, that's not me. And, you know how some women can be "of a certain age" and still have flat stomachs and thighs that don't touch as they gleefully push designer strollers holding perfectly behaved children? That's not me either. At 42, I've had 2 c-sections and an open hysterectomy. I have enjoyed food when I, most likely, should have refrained from that much joy. I have been bigger, and smaller, than I am now. I do not like my stomach, my round face, my shortness, my hair, my eyes or the sound of my own voice. God can work with that.
Yesterday, my girls could not seem to hug me enough. I heard, "Mama, I love you. Mama, I luh loo and Mama, I looooooooooooooove youuuuuuuuuuu" all day long. I was told I was beautiful, pretty, not-old, smart, a good cook and a good snuggler all day long. Those beautiful words were not delivered from hearts of deceit, set on getting something from me or gaining anything at my expense. Those words came from the purest of sources, from hearts of little girls for whom I am the ultimate in comfort with my roundness and softness. They came from little girls who will stroke my hair while falling asleep on my shoulder. They came from my darling daughter, confined to a wheelchair and peacefully reliant upon me to use my voice for her good, her protection, her safe passage into the world. God can work with a poor self-image.
Bobby, who had to work yesterday, and the girls signed a card for me. I know Ben bought it, but they signed it on their own. The girls each made me a card. Abby made me a magnet with the two of us drawn in magic marker. She gave me a flower in a pot. Sweet, sweet gifts from my children, to me, they are treasures, creations of great worth. Sometimes, I reflect upon the possibility that I could lose everything, and if I still had my children and husband, I would be just fine. BUT.WHAT.IF??? I lay in bed last night, Maisy snuggled next to me, praying that God would keep my plane from crashing into the ocean (or anywhere else) as I fly to China. I prayed away Chinese earthquakes and sink-holes. I prayed, and prayed, and prayed. I know where fear comes from. God did not give me a spirit of fear. I know, that when the angel visited Mary, telling her she would give birth to the Messiah, that Mary was afraid. I am sure, that when she gave birth to Jesus, her young body pained and exhausted in childbirth, she was afraid. I have no doubt, that when she saw Our Lord, hanging on the cross, she saw Her Son, and she was afraid. God can work with fear. He did then. He does now. He loves my children even more than I do and he will protect their mama.
Last week, our Article 5 was issued and we received Travel Approval. I will be given the Gotcha Day date today!! I will leave on either June 13, 14 or 15, depending on the date for Gotcha Day!! There was a time when I did not believe I would ever hold Patrick in my arms. I cried out to God, wondering whether I'd heard him wrong, why Patrick was being forced to suffer, why He allowed me to be hurt. I doubted. I put my reliance in the wrong place. I identified the multitudes of problems and obstacles and told God how to fix them. I was mad when my plan did not succeed and, for some reason, amazed when God worked miracle after miracle to pave the way to Patrick. God can work with doubt.
Ultimately, I am human. I am flawed. In and of myself, I will never be enough for my children. I will never be worthy---just by being me. But, IN HIM, I am perfect for my children. God's design, from time immemorial, was for me to be the mother to Robert Benjamin, Elizabeth Abigail, Margaret Rachael, Maureen Selah and Patrick Judah Root. In Him, I am enough. God can work with that!
To God Be The Glory!
Amy
