Wednesday, January 26, 2011

The Shape of a Mother

I saw this today on Facebook by a group/blog I follow: 

Can I just say ... wow. 
Just wow. 

And then she talks about it here:

She says:
"i sent those pictures to a friend first- she asked 'how do these pictures make you feel?'
oh so proud. i love that body that's cradling that sweet babe. i love that body so much- because i remember a similar picture i took of myself- but i could only see it through a blur of tears. hatred, and ugly words.
oh how it's changed." 
Proud! She said they made her proud. I have birthed 4 children in 4 years and I have yet to be proud of what I see in the mirror ... at least, what I see in the mirror today. 

And then:
"i'm a mama…
my body is so imperfect and soft and sexy in a different way. in a real way… in a way that my husband grabs me and wants me. in a powerful way that- i carried life, i gave birth, and i nourish this babe.  in a way that- i know i look more like you and less like airbrushed images. genuine and honest and imperfectly perfect."

I cried. 
Yep, tears baby. 
I know that my Creator sees me this way. 
I know that He designed my body to stretch and grow and expand as He gently knits a little human being, another new creation, in my womb. 
I know that in His eyes I am perfectly beautiful. Stunning even. 
So why, oh why, can I not see myself that way? 
Because Satan's remarks are louder than God's whispers?
Because our culture has turned the tables upside down and now worships the impeccable, toned, thin body? 
Because my insecurities are more pronounced to me than to anyone else? 

Oh Lord that I would cling to Your truths, not the enemy's lies. 
That I would see my body as You see it - a beautiful, fragrant offering to You and Your will. 
Oh that I would be able to have just a glimpse of myself through Your eyes. 

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