I have something to say, and I really don’t know how to start it out. But I’m going to give it a shot. Perhaps someone may be offended at what I am what I am about to say, that is not my intention at all. I want only to bring understanding to someone about my heart.
At a month shy of 21 years of age I delivered a beautiful baby girl. I know in my mind I thought I was all grown up, but life has certainly changed that opinion. I was not much more than a baby myself. The love that I felt was very mature though.
I sit back and look at the world around me, I look at the other young people who rotate on this planet with my family and I cannot begin to describe how I feel inside. To say that I feel blessed is a tremendous understatement.
I have grown up as a mother. I have been through unspeakable hardships and struggles to be a mother. I have had to scratch and fight to be a mother. Some days it seemed like I was on a literal battlefield.
And like a soldier I will fight again, I do fight again, and again. I have no desire to surrender, no desire to give up the fight. Because I know what I am fighting for.
I see so many people that act like their children are subjects in some kingdom in their own mind and they as the parents are the reigning tyrants. I just don’t feel that way. My children were not put on earth for me, I was born for them, to be a mother.
And just as I don’t like the lordship parenting I also cannot stomach anyone who thinks their children should look at them as friends. I am a mother, period.
I am in no way exalting myself as some super parent. I do my best by the grace of God. I make mistakes, I fail, a lot. But I continue on.
Because you see I do battle against an enemy who would like to devour my children, would like to devour my home and would like to devour me. So I fight, I let them know I fight. Sometimes I get wounded on the battlefield, but I still fight.
I know I will always have to fight, but every victory I see in them, every step they take closer to the Lord, I rejoice. I don’t need riches or glory, that doesn’t last. I need to see them living for Him.
I have been told that I spoil my children. I could let this offend me because I know this is not a positive thing to the world. But let me say that I have showered them with my love and if that means that I have spoiled them, then I have. They are my spoils of the battle, so it looks like my Father spoils me too. I’m just following suit.
I hope that when I am dead and gone if the Lord tarries my children can look back on the love I have for them and still feel it, still know that I would have busted through the very gates of hell to get them out, and I have whether they ever know it or not. I want them to spoil their own children with kisses and comfort.
I am thankful for the battle, thankful for the spoils.
