I’ve been pondering lately how very, very blessed I am. I wake up, every day, to the life that I always wanted to have. A home that is, if I’m being honest, something of a fairy tale dream come true, despite the nuances and not-quite-perfect bits that are the reality of life in a repurposed stone barn. A husband who loves and cherishes me, who takes seriously the mandate to place my needs above his own. Safety. Security. Food in the cupboards.
And children. So very many children.
I can’t tell you why God has blessed us with the family we have. I could say it is because we have asked and received, but I know that’s not right. I could say it’s because we have surrendered to His will for us and been open to whatever He sends, but that’s not right either. The fact is, I know and love many women who have walked the same path and come to a different place entirely; where He has said yes to me, it has been for them, a no.
My heart still remembers the crushing ache of longing for a child. It still has tender places bruised forever by miscarriage and loss. Like nearly all of the women I know, I’m keenly aware of the small promise that is a positive pregnancy test, and the great faith it takes to love someone you may never meet this side of heaven. I was changed by motherhood once, and reshaped, I think, by a long season of coming to appreciate the gift of a child through the absence of children.
Like the grace that saved me, I have been given these blessings through no righteousness or works of my own. They are gifts. And yes, I am grateful.
I am grateful for the slamming doors and the coats that need zipped and the rides to a friend’s house at a completely inconvenient time. I am grateful for 2 pounds of bacon at a single breakfast and the impossible cost of new shoes for every pair of feet. I am blessed.
But I’m also keenly aware that my friends called Momma by one, or two, or five children… they are blessed as well. And many of them (not all, of course!) look at my family and wonder why God’s plan for them was different.
The Lord could have said yes to more. Or less. For me or for them. And guess what? We would each still be blessed women. His favor isn’t measured in the size of our family. It can’t be accounted for by taking roll call around the dinner table. To be a mother at all is to be given an amazing gift.
Every one of us has a different story. God has us all in different places, leading different lives, using different talents to bring Him glory in the way He designed. Of course our families are unique. Of course the details are specific to what He intends for our individual walk, whatever that may be. May you find joy in the story He has written for you today, and in the family He wove for your happiness and His purposes. We are all, every one, blessed.
