On Monday morning, Lauren Fleshman, one of my favorite human beings, hosted an Instagram live session. She gave her audience two writing prompts, and ten minutes to write for each. The idea was to just let the ideas flow and not worry or even think so much about the execution. One of the prompts was “Yes, I am willing to be…”.
Here’s what I wrote:
Yes, I am willing to be the mother of these two girl-children. I am far from perfect. Yes, God made me with intention and with perfect design, but also with space to grow, to learn, to stretch and shift, ideally towards His light.
I am willing to show these girls all of my angles, all sides, facets, nooks and crannies of myself. What have I learned? God, I hope something worth teaching. How can I teach them, model for them? I’m terrified; I’m a tightly-twisted knot and a long, frayed rope at the same time.
I love these girls, I want them to know life, love, faith, strength, grace, kindness. I want them to be able to hug with sweaty, dusty, capable arms. I want them to be able to laugh and cry with equal lack of fear. I want them to be okay with being afraid.
Yes, I am willing to be an example for them, not necessarily always a good one. I don’t know how to do a lot of things. I have a lot of good things about me; I also have a lot to learn. I’m willing to be okay with this. I can love as best I can from day to day, to show these girls that perfection is not the goal. Happiness isn’t even the goal. Growth is. Learning is. Love is. That’s how you see — really see — a baby’s smile; that’s how you hear a toddler singing and feel joy at it. That’s how you don’t sweat a dusty floor, messy hair, an awkward silence, a hard day. That’s how you live. I think. No. I know.