Sunday, July 8, 2012

Motherhood: Clay In Their Hands

The rare quiet moments in life when I have a time to reflect on my life as a mother to my four sons, I stand in complete awe. I can scarcely find words or even the emotional strength to describe my personal journey through motherhood. Motherhood is such a different experience for us all. The word itself invokes the stiring of such strong emotions in us women. For some it may bring tears of sorrow or regrets. For others fond and happy memories of days gone by and for others the mere hope of surviving yet another day or night. We all have distinct, individual, and I would venture to say perfect motherhood experiences. What I mean by "perfect motherhood experiences" is not that we have been perfect mothers nor that our children have been perfect children but; that our children who have made us mothers have perfectly molded us into the women we are today. They are molding us into who we have potential to become one day. I am by NO means a perfect person and definitely not a perfect mother. My faults are endless. My children are NOT perfect children either. But; my children are perfect sculpturers and I am their clay. They mold me. They pull me. They stretch me.They pinch me. They tug me every which way and direction. At times they tear me and stomp on me. At times they adorn me with flowers, hugs, love notes, silly jokes, and kisses. I am clay in their hands and they are molding me to reach my potential. My children need more of  me than I actually have to give. They mold me into becoming my destiny and into reaching my potential. In the molding process I happen to be raising them. Their comments floor me! Their ideas amaze me! They teach me! Each one of my children has been strategically placed into my life. I think of who I was before they came to into this world. Each day they change me. Each day I hope to not fail them. I'm learning everyday how to be a better mother. Each day I learn a little more about what really matters. They have a lust for life. I feel the weight of the responsibility. I hope to not fail them. I need to not fight the molding. I need to cherish it more. Once their work with me is done it will be over. It will then be their turn to be clay in their children's hands. I created the clay and they create the masterpiece. It is the cycle of life never ending...

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