Now A Mother
Here I am, a mom to two sweet toddlers, with a baby on the way, and I still find myself struggling with my body image and insecurities of who I am, or who I’m not, on so many days. Sure, it’s in different ways then when I was 20, but the feelings of not being enough, or the lies of how I’m not beautiful or wishing that certain aspects of my body were different still hit home. Satan seems to know which lies to whisper to my weary heart and would like nothing more than to take me down and discourage me and distract me from remembering who God says I am.
It takes a lot of work to fight each day, to take up the armor of God, to go into battle. And when I try to go at it on my own, I seem to always lose the battle. Because see, it really is all in the mind. A game that can be played without anyone else knowing about it. A game that can go on sometimes without me even realizing it until I feel so defeated. Just because I’m a mom now, doesn’t make me immune to this disease. Sometimes that comparison trap creeps back in, and although it’s not with the girls I see walking down the hall at school or in magazines, it’s now with my mom friends or a picture on Instagram.
But God’s truth doesn’t change and his thoughts about me are the same from the day I was born. He says that I am wonderfully made. Fully equipped. Able to fight in this battle. He’s given me his helmet of salvation, called me his own, made me in his image. I am formed the way I am so I can live out the calling he has for my life. No part of me is made on accident or by mistake. My body can do amazing things, and although it’s not what it use to be nor is it what that actress or fitness coach, or shoot, even my other mom friends, bodies look like. It’s beautiful. It tells a story. It bears babies. It chases kids around. It sits on the floor and reads stories to little ones on my lap. It can carry two toddlers down stairs and make Costco runs with huge heavy carts. I’m learning to embrace my body in new ways, but also learning to trust in the Lord and walk in freedom all over again. And this time around it bears more weight.
See, I not only want to live in freedom because that’s what God wants for me and what he died for and calls me, but also because now I have little eyes that watch my every move. That hear my every word. Who watch me get ready in the morning, and who I eat every meal with, and who sees their mama laughing, playing and enjoying life, or sometimes crying in her closet because nothing seems to fit right. (And then having to talk with my little girl after I’ve collected myself and remind her of truth as I remind myself of truth.) When I look at my daughter, I see her through God’s eyes. Absolutely gorgeous, wildly beautiful in her own, unique way. I’m in awe of how God created her, and would move heaven and earth to protect her from feeling the pressures I have felt or stop her from believing the lies that I have fallen into. I’m not only fighting for myself now, but for the next generation. I want to live in freedom, so my daughter can live in freedom too.
May we be mamas who fight well, who love our bodies well so our daughters can in turn love their bodies well too.