I am thankful for motherhood.
I love how God takes a young girl (either in spirit or in age) and uses that firstborn baby to transform her life.
I remember coming home with Hannah with a very preconceived and haughty opinion of what this whole mothering gig would look like. I also remember cramming her carseat in the back of my two-door sports car (because it was PLENTY big!) and dressing her like she was headed to a wedding, all the while sweating buckets because it was 86 degrees in the middle of February and my nerves were a teensy bit shot.
And after the first sleepless night without my mother-in-law, I cried for what must have been 16 hours straight.
Wow. Talk about a reality check.
And the incessant worrying? Have mercy on my soul, I worried myself into a knot more times than I can count! I have diagnosed each of my first three children with at least one life-threatening illness only to have my pediatrician laugh behind his clipboard.
Having more babies has been such a soothing balm to that worried momma.
You really do live to tell about ... at least the parts you can remember, and those are few and far between.
So fast-forward almost 16 years and four more babies. My sage wisdom from those years?
Sleeping through the night is most definitely *not* the most worrisome thing.
Trust and obey the Lord.
Motherhood has been the vessel that God has used to strip me ... again and again of any self-worth that I struggle to keep.
I am grateful that God is faithful to labor with me as I continually purge the sins of selfishness, pride, fear, and more (and more).