God gave me the heart of a stay-at-home mom.
And I used to fight it.
I was ashamed of it.
I thought there was something wrong with my heart’s desires.
Because I stopped using my college degree, and started to follow the desperate screams in my heart.
I couldn’t ignore the screams of my heart. They were deafening.
I felt it the first time I became pregnant. Something within me switched.
My job felt meaningless. My passion emptied from it.
God transformed my mind to be solely focused on my family and how I needed to tend to it.
Everything else came second.
Oh, and it was a fierce kind of focus.
A mama heart.
A fierce and protective, but oh so nurturing, mama heart.
It comes back every time I’m pregnant.
That fierce love for my family.
Some sort of hormone switches over.
I’m not ashamed of it anymore.
Because I know God gave me this heart.
This heart meant to be at home.
This post originally appeared on Messy Footprints