I ran across this poem by Ruth Bell Graham, mother of five, a while ago and it's stuck with me...it best explains my feelings on being a mother.
Five I have:
each separate,
distinct,
a soul
bound for eternity:
and I
-blind
leader of the blind-
groping and fumbling,
Casual and concerned,
by turns...
undisciplined, I seek
by order and command
to discipline and shape;
( I who need
Thy discipline
to shape
My own disordered soul).
O Thou
Who seest the heart's
True, deep desire,
Each shortcoming and
Each sad mistake,
Supplement
and
overrule,
nor let our children be
the victims of our own
Unlikeness unto thee
1 comment:
I. Love. That.
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