I see you, mama, holding on tightly to those precious children of yours.
It feels like if you hold on tight enough then nothing bad can happen to them. You are clenching your fists tighter and tighter, holding on with all your strength.
I see the worry in your eyes, worried about things you can’t control—their future, the big emotions, the mean words someone speaks to them, the heartache we all know will happen.
I see concern written all over your face when they get sick, when you feel like there is nothing you can do to help.
I see the fear creep inside your thoughts and swirl around and make you dizzy.
I see you clutching them closer to keep them from harm. To protect them from all the evil in this world. I see you wanting to put them in a bubble and not allow anything in.
Oh, mama, I see how hard you are working to protect those sweet children with every fiber of your being.
I see it because I am that mom, too.
My foolish heart tricks me into thinking if I can just hold on tight enough, I can be in control.
They are the most beautiful gifts ever entrusted to me, they are a part of my soul and very being, and that is the part that makes motherhood so very terrifying.
But no amount of worrying will change the fact that I am not in control—I never have been and never will be.
I want to release this grip, open my fists and release the tension that has built up in my heart, that deep-rooted fear and hand them over to the One who is in control.
The loving God who knit them together and died for them, who loves them more than I could ever fathom.
What comfort to know that the God of the universe is watching over them. He has His eyes on them even when I don’t—they are never out of His view.
It is hard to imagine anyone being able to love them more than I do . . . but thankfully, there is One who does.
My greatest comfort as a mom is knowing my girls are safer in God’s hands than my very own.
I will pry my hands open, loosen my grip, and place them in His hands again and thank him for having patience with this mom’s heart.
Previously published on the author’s Facebook page