It unfolded in an instant. Her sky-blue eyes split between teenage-anger and childlike tears. As her growing, 9-year-old body couldn’t quite realign, with the whirlwind of thoughts stirring ferociously, unsettled in her anxious mind. A heightening typhoon of anger, hurt, confusion and worry. She couldn’t hold it in any longer, and you knew what was coming. But, it still hurt you both. Hard.

The voices raised, higher and higher.

Tears streaming down, simultaneously.

Her threats to leave. To give in. And to simply give up.

Hurtful words, that cut deep, to your core.

Her despair and uncertainty erupting.

Satan’s favorite tools, that you work so hard to combat.

Such an incredible pull to embrace one another.

With a block of hostility wedged in-between.

Then you realized at that moment that you knew exactly why she let it out on you. You, who carried and grew her. You, who brought her into this chaotic world. You, who care for her every one of her emotional and physical needs.

You. Her safe zone. Her comfort zone.

You. Her mama. Her everything.

It was this unexplainable moment of motherhood. A moment causing your sorrowful mama-heart to shatter into a million pieces. Right there on the cold, hard floor separating the two of you, who used to be one. A piece of your soul. Staring right back at you with flooded, weary eyes. She was exhausted. And so are you. Tired of everything trying to steal your sweet, baby girl and her innocence. Into this darkness. Uneasiness. And uncertainty.

As you look deep into this beautiful piece of work that you helped to create . . . the perfect answer to months and years of praying . . . this masterpiece that God Himself bestowed upon you, you are suddenly overwhelmed by an undeniable clash of hurt, love, anger and a warrior-like feeling.

Knowing that you want her to learn this right from wrong.

Respect.

Kindness.

And self-control.

But also knowing that she is still a young child.

With big, confusing emotions.

Who holds it all in.

Until she sees you.

And knows she can let it all go.

Who still needs you to be her safe zone, even when things erupt.

Knowing that, as her mama, there is nothing in this world that could ever stop you from fighting for her.

And so, sweet mama, you lace up your boots once again.

Determined to not let Satan win today. Or any day.

Ready to soldier-up and battle for every single part of her.

For the memories. The sweetness. The giggles. The pure princess joy.

For the nighttime stories. The movies and popcorn. The winter hot chocolate.

For bicycle rides. Long summer swims. Roller-skates and jump ropes.

For too much ice cream. Too little sleep. And every laugh in between.

For her dreams. Her aspirations. Her goals. And ambitions.

For her self-esteem. Her self-worth. Her value. All of which are inarguably priceless.

All the while knowing in your heart, precious mama, that there will be days ahead filled with rounds-and-rounds against the sneakiest of thieves and all his favorite instruments. Jealousy. Greed. Uncertainty. Lies. And fear.

You know that weary is just around the corner. Filled with more tears. Huge emotions. Anger. And doubt, once again.

But, you, incredible mama . . . you are ready.

Armed with love. Listening ears. Embracing arms. And all of her favorite things.

Ready to . . . 

Write the lunch note, sprinkled with hearts.

Turn on her favorite song, and let her little body move freely to the beat.

Host the sleepover and all its messy beauty.

Wake her up on Sunday morning, to bring her to her Savior.

Play with her hair. Inhale its sweetness.

Kiss her forehead, while staring into her amazing eyes.

Show up. Volunteer. Yell from the sidelines.

Hug her tightly. Hard. And often.

Pray. Pray. And pray even more.

Shout from the mountaintops: “Not today, Satan. Not any day!”

And never, ever, ever give up.

You, beautiful mama, are ready.

To make sure she knows, she’s worth every ounce of every battle every single time.

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