She’s worth it, you know.

The days that pass by in a blur, with the minutes flying past, the babies crying on her shoulder, and the nap times missed. She’s worth it.

The days with Bible studies, heads down reading the word, hands held in prayer. When she’s cooking dinner for a beleaguered spouse, the darkness coming earlier and earlier now. She’s worth it.

The early mornings—searching through backpacks, shuffling car seats, milk in cups, pairs of shoes. The early mornings—brushing her teeth next to a man she’s loved since the beginning. The beginning when she couldn’t hear him speak because the blood rushing through her ears roared over his voice. The beginning when goosebumps followed his hand as it tracked across her arms. The beginning. And since the beginning, she’s been worth it. 

The nights with the sick babies, or the nights with dishes left still in the sink. The nights with friends and cards. And the nights waiting up for those babies to come home. She’s worth it.

The dinners at the table—forks clanging on glass plates, chatter rising up above the table. Laughter. The how was your days, and what did you do todays. She’s worth it. 

The face in the mirror with fine lines and laugh lines and worry lines. The face in the mirror that reflects tired eyes, day two hair, and ears that were pierced in the fifth grade. The face in the mirror that looks a little timid some mornings, and fierce other mornings. The face that reflects courage. She’s worth all of that.

She is worth your love.
She is worth your affection.
She is worth your attention, your wonder. 
She is worth the slow moments in which you only see HER.

She’s worth more than money and a 401k. She’s worth more than a house with big TVs and plenty of room and laundry that always seems to be done. She’s worth more than her “voted most likely to succeed” certificate from her senior year of high school. She’s worth more than her size 10 jeans. Or her size 16 jeans. 

And it’s here—

When she finally recognizes how much she is actually worth—when she feels it rise and tighten in her chest. It’s there.

It’s when she realizes how the silence she carries can shift the tectonic plates. And it’s when she realizes that her voice—

The same voice that harmonizes with every single woman who has ever come before her.
The same voice that is rusty from lack of use, and a little unsure.
The same voice with a churning ocean full of words she has yet to speak.

Her voice is the same voice that propels truth, goodness, and grace towards others. 
Her voice is the same voice that dispels the darkness of self-doubt. 
Her voice is the same voice that will quietly whisper in your ear that you are worth it. 

You are so worth it.