mommy track

You are not a world changer, you chose the mommy track. Self-talk. There are days, oh are there ever days, that I believe this to be true. Usually it’s  on the days when I’m doing three consecutive loads of laundry, when I stumble over a plastic banana yellow giraffe, or clean out dirty baby bottles for the umpteenth time at 6AM on a Saturday morning.

Which, speaking of Saturday mornings, last Saturday we went on a morning walk (you know, after I finished washing the baby bottles). My little girl took a tumble and let out a scream heralding the end of the world. My usual inclination is to sweep her up into my arms. My husband though did something different. He handed her a little red flower. Her tears stopped suddenly as she intently gazed at the crimson blossom considering whether or not to pop it into her mouth. She gave us a smile that rivaled the sun. A flower. She found comfort in a flower. And that is when it hit me.

My daughter thinks the world is pretty wonderful and so do I.

I chose the mommy track but motherhood does not limit my life.   In fact, as a mom,  I am an agent of change. I have to be. Because when I look into the eyes of my children, I see the whole world staring back.

I see refugees fleeing South Africa and Syria, I see the water crisis in Flint, I see the abominable wall Republican candidate Trump wants to build, I see “Turkey is not safe”, I see children living in war torn areas of Congo, and I see the rebuilding of Nepal. I also see the hope of heaven staring back at me from my daughter’s speckled hazel eyes.

In that moment I learned something about the mother-heart of God and I suddenly knew that I knew that I knew. There is peace enough to cover the whole world and I want it to begin with me, “Mommy”.