Our culture is pretty focused on looks. You really can’t escape it. No matter where we turn, we are sure to run into the idea that the way we look matters. And I don’t quite fit into the acceptable mold.
Eight children. That is how many babies I’ve given birth to. And let me tell ya, sometimes I’m less than…thrilled…by the way I look as a result.
I mean, my children are the most wonderful, precious creatures that I’ve ever laid eyes on. But my midsection…I can do without it. Or so I’ve thought.
The Lord has been so gracious to me, and He has really opened my eyes to a few things lately as I’ve bemoaned my ever changing shape. Such as…
My children are precious, and He used my body to form these amazing people. That midsection that I’m not too fond of? It is a special place…a sacred place, that God used to knit my babies together.
While it now looks different than it once was, I would say it is for the better, and not worse. The hand of God used it to fulfill His purposes!
These changes should be celebrated, not disparaged.
The way that my body looks now is evidence that God’s hand was at work. That my body was at work, doing an amazing thing. Embracing these changes is a way to really exhibit a form of thankfulness for my children.
After all, there is absolutely no way that I would go back to my previous, child-less self. No way, and no how. And my body is proof that eight of my greatest blessings have left their mark on me.
When I stop and really think about it, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ladies, God has used us in such an awe-inspiring way. That should be celebrated! The voices around us that say we should look a different way than we do are part of a culture that as a whole, discourages child bearing. It is a “me focused” world that we live in. If we look instead to our Creator and the beautiful creations that we call our children instead, I think we will begin to look at our bodies in a totally different way.
I’ve realized just how grateful, thankful, and blessed I really am.
And each stretch mark and added inch to my waistline are just a reminder of this. They are a reminder of how God used my weak flesh to do something grand. A reminder of that when I am weak, He is strong.
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