Mother's day is not so much for me as it is for the little people I mother.

If it were not for them, I would not be on this journey.

If not for my husband, and our desire for children, it would be an unknown to me.

And the weird thing that tends to strike me is that I have no desire to be the victim of commercial accolade on this day. I didn't do anything amazing.

God did.

I only walked in the purpose He had for me. I did not sit and doodle a human being from design to 3-D. I merely unwittingly took my part in the enormous production of life. If there is one thing that sticks strongly in my mind about bearing children, is how helpless I actually felt.
When trying to conceive. When feeling ill.
When counting kicks and breathing through the contractions.
It all went on in a divine way far above my own puny joystick.

None-the-less, I enjoyed the girl's handmade creations gifted to me on sunday;
little artworks of their footprints pressed into my hands with smiles and squeezes.
Just because I didn't actually physically model them, doesn't mean I don't adore being with them and watching that amazing unfurling of their design detailing.
What a creative manufacturer we have.
And to think He allows mothers a unique first row seat to handle and constructively influence the creation before it is released upon the general public.
What tremendous VIPs we must be to have that honour.

Happy Mother's Day.

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