After every baby, a woman morphs into someone else entirely. Do not be surprised if her spiritual hair turns stark black as soot or red as molten steel. Do not be surprised if that hip she props the newest baby on causes her to feel unnaturally imbalanced so that in public places she follows sudden urges to slam her torso far to the side, trying to pop that crick out of her back. When she listens to music, it’s not like it used to be, making her sway and close her eyes all dreamy, but rather it’s an invisible crowbar, ripping open a teary fire-hydrant, sudden unrelated fears for your children. Instead of making a grocery list, she’ll note the things that could happen: spiders, amoebas, cancer, falling bridges, hippos and tigers (you know, escaped from the zoo), real pirates, whores, cannibals, and the worst – unbelief.
Lives in a woman’s hands, they are mountains in her heart. It’s a silly thing God asks them to do. Bear them, feed them, discipline them, teach them to love, and hand them over. Trade in the mountains for mustard seeds. Mary, no wonder we sing so many songs to you, bewildered as we are.
{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
Preach it, Mama! I already feel Ziva slipping though my fingers like sand. When I calmly (honestly) express this to Jason he has no idea what I’m talking about.
Then not two days later he’s actually freaking out over what I had tried to share with him.
“OH MY GOSH OUR BABY IS GETTING SO BIG SO FAST!!!”
Then I smile, pat his head and start the dinner.
Amber, You know how I hate someone to say I told you so. Well, I guess now I realize that these tears I shead almost daily for just the touch of my babies. Must be so I’ll keep praying for you, eventhough I can no longer hold you in my arms. I’m so proud of you and Seth. M
No, seriously, Mama, I knew it was coming. If we so much as gave you a zerbert, you’d cry. It’s my lot – no thanks to you,
or thanks to you – according to how you look at it.
–
Isaac has been scream-singing Jingle Bells for about twenty minutes.
hmmm. good stuff. keep writing..i really enjoy reading your posts
oh amber, i just love you!! the songs you sing are so truthful and so encouraging. i never thought about trading in our mountains for mustard seeds. God speaks though your finger tips.
bff
-b-
I love it!! That is all so true. Thanks for putting it into words so beautifully and sharing it.
Amber, you’re miraculous with words…this is beautiful.
Cindy
…and then you go to bed at night thinking, “what did they learn from me today?”
yikes.