Friday, January 7, 2011

Who am I?

Eight days ago, my womb was full.  My belly was firm and distended with the life of my unborn baby.  Eight days ago.

Today my womb is empty, and my arms are full. 

And I don't know who I am.

Some answers are obvious.  A wife.  A mom.  A daughter.  A sister.  A friend.

But all of the sudden I don't recognize myself.  My hand goes instinctively to my belly, a habit developed after 9 months of carrying my child, and for a moment I panic when there is no belly to rub.  And then I remember the infant sleeping in her cradle.  The one who consumed my body for so many months now lays quietly in a nest of soft, pink blanket. 

I look in the mirror and can't stop staring at my new body.  My eyes fix on my wilted abdomen, and I feel a little bit empty and confused. 

Who am I?  Who is this withered person looking back at me? 

Just a wife?  Just a mom of five?  Just?

His words pierce my wandering thoughts.  "When did you become so beautiful?"  I look up into his eyes and wonder if he is seeing the same thing I am.  Obviously he's not. 

"You look amazing today."

"You don't know how sexy you are."

"How did I get so lucky?"

"You are so beautiful."

BEAUTIFUL.

I don't really believe him.  I don't see beauty when I look in the mirror. 

But I do feel it...a little.  I feel it in the way he touches my face, and the way he holds my hand.  The way he pushes my hair out of my eyes, and tells me he loves me.  I catch him gazing at me from across the room, and I know my wilted belly doesn't matter to him.  His lips turn up and his countenance conveys his deep affection for me.

He loves me anyways.

He thinks I'm beautiful.

And he's patient with my insecurities.  He knows I need time to see my beauty.

Who am I?

I am a beautiful wife.  I am a devoted mother.  I am a cherished daughter.  I am a supportive sister.  I am a sympathetic friend.

And...

I am fearfully and wonderfully made by the One who makes no mistakes. 

And hopefully soon, I will believe it.

2 comments:

  1. You are altogether beautiful, my dove, my bride. Your face (and every other inch of you) is lovely, but your words are most sweet. Let me see your face, and let me hear your voice!

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