I want to be a mom who doesn’t rush my children through an emotional experience. I want to give them a safe space to feel, for as long as they need to feel. I want to give my children the gift of allowing a process to unfold, completely, in its entirety. I want them to know what it’s like to sit through uncomfortability and know that feelings eventually pass.
I want to be a mom who shares this world, as painful as it is, with my children. I want to sit with them and share the pain, sorrow, grief, and heartache. I want to wipe their tears on my chest as they bury their heads close to my heart.
I want to be a mom who encourages my children, especially in times like these, to lean heavily on their faith. I want them to always know that this world is not all there is; that this is just a small part of their journey. I want them to look up at the vastness of the sky and be reminded of the beauty that awaits us when our time here is done.
I want to be a mom who helps my children see the goodness, even when it seems hard to find. I want them to know that the goodness is always there and it is worth finding.
And I want to be a mom who teaches my children to be the compassion and love that they want to see in the world. To bring hope and healing in the midst of chaos and turmoil. To be the ones who reach out their hands to those who are hurting and to carry light into the darkest of places.
Last night, I thought of Paris and what it means to be a mom raising children in this scary world.
This morning, I’m praying for all of the moms who are raising kids in this crazy, messed up, tragedy-laced world.
I’m praying that we would have the courage to raise children who lean in instead of ones who walk away.
