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.
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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.
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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