This girl and I have been through a lot together.
She’s taught me a lot about how strong I am. And how weak I am.
She’s taught me how much I need His grace. How much I need His strength.
She’s taught me a lot about what it means to be a mom.
What it means to love.
What it means to pursue.
What it means to have hope.
She has taught me that no matter how broken I am, His love is enough.
We’ve fought each other and neither of us wins.
But when we fight together, we both win.
If you’ve ever loved a broken child, you know what I mean. Pain and wounds and hurts from the past, rear their ugly head at a moments notice, or with no notice at all.
My daily battle for years has been NOT to take it personally.
I’m doing so much better with that.
My very nature is to be driven, to be a fixer, to be a solver. I like to barrel through and make things better.
There is no barreling through when you are loving and healing a broken child.
It is slow.
It is minute by minute by minute.
Some days are good. And some days are hell.
My husband gave me the best compliment ever the other day. He said, “Honey, you’re doing such a great job with Emma.”
Sigh. Deep sigh.
He has seen me fail. He has seem me blow it. He knows first hand how hard it can be.
But it is getting better.
We are making steady slow progress because I’ve learned to be ok with steady and slow progress.
I’m not trying to barrel in and fix it anymore.
I’m just trying to be a good mom.
The kind of mom she needs.
So I laugh more. I don’t sweat the small stuff.
I’ve learned not to major on minors.
I’m learning who my child is.
And I’m finally, finally no longer trying to make her be who I think she should be.
There is so much freedom in that.
Let me tell you…. so much freedom.