Daily Reads


What makes him mine

I spend all of my days (and sometimes my nights) with Michael. He gets the best of my energy, my humor, my work, my play, my kindness, my patience...my everything. And although I know he is mine - I carried him for 38 weeks, after all, and I gave birth to him - I don't really feel like he's mine mine. That is to say, I don't feel like I can take credit for who he is and I definitely don't feel ownership of him. Most of the time I'm kind of in awe of him.

Where did this little spark of life come from??
Why were we chosen to be his parents?
How can I possibly be up to the task of being mom to such an amazing creation?

Well, I know the answer to the first question. I believe with all my heart that God put this little person together. Every single molecule of him. But that doesn't make it any less astonishing when he catches on to a joke, or shares his snack with me, or dances to a song, or points to a cow and says "mooooo". The other questions are harder because I believe that God put our family together on purpose. This is no accident - God meant for Michael to be with us. And I believe that when God gives great blessings, He expects much in return. The magnitude of the responsibility is just huge. It makes me tremble.

These thoughts live in my head every single day, so this sweet post over at rockstar diaries really hit home with me. It's nice to know I'm not the only mama who feels "unworthy of the task", but it also got me thinking about what makes Michael mine - what makes any child belong to any parent. I'm so thankful that I carried Michael and gave birth to him, but I've arrived at this conclusion:

Even more than the shared DNA, or the pregnancy, or the birth story, 
Michael is mine because I love him.

He's mine because I give him my energy, my humor, my work, my play, and so on. He's mine because I know which sippy cup is his favorite. Because I do the animal sounds that make him laugh. Because I recognize the first traces of words in his babbling and because I cheer when he lets go of the furniture and walks across the room. Because I know how he likes to have his back scratched, and how he likes to be held when he falls asleep. Because I'm there when he's sad, scared, tired, frustrated, happy, excited, curious, hyper, and ornery.

He's mine because I love him. 
And I pray that love makes me worthy of the task. 


  1. Great post sister. I love learning about you through your theological and psychological insight on your blogs. In my writing, truth often pours forth when my fingers hit the keyboard. It's hard to enunciate a "clean" thought that is concise and to the point in conversation, but the keys pull it out of me. I think you're the same way.See you soon!

    1. Thanks, brother! Thank you for reading, and thanks for the compliment. It means so much coming from you. Love you!

  2. It's too bad Texas isn't next door to South Carolina because we have alot in common! I'm a speech-language pathologist stay at home mom of a little girl who calls her grandmother Gigi-). I started my blog for the same reasons...look forward to keeping up with yours. Oh yeah-my husband and I are in love with Montana even though we've never been there!

    1. Hi Allison! That's so funny how much we have in common :) Don't you just love that the web makes it possible to meet friends way across the country? Thanks for the comment - I'm looking forward to getting to know you better!