Having a brilliant, high-energy, sensory-seeking child is sort of like living close to the sun. There is warmth, radiance, awe. You know you are in the presence of something extraordinary. And also… you are getting burned up.🥵 Consumed by the energy.
I was not “made to be a mother.” There is no way. I enjoy peace and quiet far too much for this to be my default setting. 🫣
Me and Jesus are still having come-to-Him meetings about single parenthood. I would really like to review the plans He has for me, because what is happening? 🥴
I distinctly remember praying for daughters. Instead, I was given a son. And in a divine reverse Uno, God showed His sense of humor: his name is Messiah Jordan.
An agnostic was given Messiah.
Messiah from Greenville convinces me daily that I need Messiah from Nazareth.
This is the most humbling part of my journey.
I can totally Kechia in my own strength. I cannot mother in it. I will fall short every time. The job is too big. The stakes are too high.
It took a son to show me The Son who led me back to The Father.
It's complicated.
It is holy.
It is exhausting.
It is sacred.
It's exactly on par for the course.
P.S.:
When I said "I can do hard things," it was an affirmation not an invitation. You know what? Scratch it. Hear me and hear me good:
I CAN DO EASY THINGS!
Sign me up. 🫡
