danny is the hottest
Dear Mothers (Past, Present, Future),
Seth put toilet paper in my stocking. We had run out of facial tissue, and he had foreseen my need to soak up some tears, so he put a half-used roll of toilet paper in my Christmas stocking. At the time, I didn’t see what there was to cry about (except this pitiful gift). I just knew that toilet paper had to be one step down from getting a sock of coal, and though I have thrown a few of my very own toddler tantrums, I figured some of my low-down mommyworks deserved fuzzy Minnetonkas and the two-toned watch I couldn’t buy in the same place I purchased my milk.
Do you hear that, Mommies?
The sound of ingratitude is deafening.
Most often, we don’t even know what we want – much less what we need. We are toddlers with a more refined taste. We want aprons from Anthropology. We want the perfectly functional family. We want planners with lists covered in checkmarks. We want clean houses that smell like exotic figs and hard kitchen-work. We want well-mannered children – who say “thank you.”
But oh how God flickers into the deep dark, how he ignites the fiery, thumping circuits, how he knows us fiber by fiber and holds us in a cup of time, how he sees so far, and his gifts are light-years in the coming. His thoughts toward me within such a scheme are nearly unbelievable, and His passing His love between us and running a long circuit of blood between us is hard to accept.
When I first met Seth, I loved him. After two weeks, compelled to scare him away sooner rather than later, I emptied all my old purses for him, all the things I struggled to give to God daily. I was a toddler, a wobbly milk-drinker, and he looked at me from one of those super Christian snow-like side-hugs, and he asked me if God hadn’t forgiven me and taken all that baggage from me, and I said yes, so he said, “I have nothing against you,” and he’s lived as if I never carried those old things. He treats me like I’m new.
When I sat in my sister’s lap to look at her computer for a few seconds (tricky!) and I began to realize the enormity of The Mother Letter Project, (the many comments on my blog, the video and art, Caroline’s poem, and the compilation of these most precious letters), I nearly turned inside out. God’s kindness, Seth’s kindness, and your kindness, it is so hard to accept. I am not even a “Mother.” I’m just a regular ol’ “Mama.” But how can I not receive? After all, I do believe that grace is irresistible. I can read like a Mother, and as I do, I am accepting this beautiful fellowship with you, with my husband, and with my God.
Thank you, dear Mothers in heart and deed, for the word of your testimony. I have only been able to read your letters through my blurry mascara. You have changed my life. One of the sweetest parts has been remembering how swiftly and gently Kindness knocks us to our knees – the freedom in repentance.
King of Glory, You know full well how awful a pair of house-shoes would have been compared to this. You are concerned with the whole. You are self-sustaining, and I am sustained in You. Thank you that the “MLP Husband” is mine. Thank you that I get to be a “Mother” with these gorgeous women.