I wonder, as women, do we know? I mean, do we TRULY know how incredible we are?
The power of our words can sooth and calm a wailing babies, or spark and incite riotous men to war.
Do we know, we teach future generations not only with words and lesson plans, but with what we allow, or tolerate in our homes?
Do we know, we have the power to end the cycle of domestic violence by taking the kids and leaving to a safe place for good?
We are not the strength of brute force; we are the conveyers of kindness, culture, and beauty. That is our strength.
We are as complex as the 12-layer ivory ball, and yet we deeply long for the simple life…
Do we know, we are worth fighting for?
Our culture has mixed up the constructs of “me” time to mean, selfish endeavors away from hubby, or kids. Do we remember how to rejuvenate and refresh at the soul level, to have more energy to give our precious family members, as well as our own lives?
We, instinctively know when a child struggles with eating, or looking us in the eye… “This is not right. Something must be done.”
When we pick our battles, women are such incredible warriors for a higher cause.
When we apply soothing balms and oils to the skin, the intention is to bring healing, peace, and joy within.
There is nothing like a woman willing to pause in her busy day, and listen (I mean REALLY listen) to the heart-songs of those around her.
Our curves are beautiful, our minds are keen, our willingness to rise above inspires all.
The miracle of life coming forth from our very own bodies would seem like reason enough to be in awe… what I find equally amazing is the amount of nurturing, caring, giving, and yes, true mothering which bursts forth from the lives of those without natural children to call their own. To give birth is one kind of motherhood, to nurture the lives around you day in and day out, is another. Is it any wonder, we call the soon-to-be Saint Teresa of Calcutta – Mother Teresa?
Today, I pause and I am grateful for women, the ones who have gone before us, the ones who have yet to come, and especially the ones with which we share our todays.
—Inspired by the passing of Cay Westmoreland (my sister’s sister.)