I Can't Make The Birds Fly

We were staying with some friends recently and everyone was sleeping in, except Grace and I. Grace was standing at the front window, with the morning sun streaming through. A bird lept off of the front wall and swooped in front of the window, circled several times, and then flew off.

Grace shrieked in delight and turned to look at me.

"More birds, Momma, more!"

"Please, Momma! More birds!"

"Momma, birds, fly! More please!"

And on and on it went, moving from delighted hysteria to broken-hearted pleas for more flying birds. I stooped low next to her and wrapped  her in my arms.

"I'm sorry baby, but Momma can't make more birds come. I can't make the birds fly."

She pushed me aside in frustration and returned to the window with tears stinging in the corner of her eyes.

"More birds, please! Momma?"

My heart dropped into my stomach and I thought of how this would be the first of many times my daughter would have to learn a lesson.

My Darling Daughters,
You know I love you with all of my heart. And on this Mother's day, I want to remind you of something that I don't often say (but it is no secret.) I am not perfect. I am not all powerful. I do not always know what is best for you. 

But I know Someone who is perfect. Who is all powerful. And who knows exactly what is best for you.

Sweet baby girls, I fall down, alot. I mess up and I make things messier than they were supposed to be. But I pray that in the chaos, in the wreckage of what I have done, that you will see the Almighty's hand, lifting me up, making things beautiful again. Setting me on His course and teaching me to be more like Him. I pray that as the years go by and I (hopefully) become wiser, that you will see Christ in me more and more. I pray that God will be glorified through me, His creation. That His light will shine during my darkest times.

Sweet cakes, I am broken and He mends me.
I am lost and He finds me.
I am sharp and prickly and He softens me.
I am sometimes wrong and He is always right.
I am dirty and He makes me clean.
I am ruined and He builds me, piece by piece, in His own design.

My loves, you will see these play out over and over again through the years. We will have golden days where I am walking as I should, after Him, and things will seem right. But those days when I turn, stumble, or fall, they may seem darker, and you may lose trust in the world, in me. I pray that you can see the beauty from ashes that is Christ sanctifying me in Him.

I love you for always,
Momma

 Though it is somewhat painful at first, I pray that one day they will see the beauty in this and that they too can share this simple truth with their children, like my mom shared with me.

I am but a servant to The King.

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I Can't Make The Birds Fly