It doesn’t matter what kind of morning we had…
…whether we laughed and played, or I yelled while he didn’t listen.
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve screwed up in motherhood…
…whether I’m proud of myself or disappointed. And it’s usually the latter.
He doesn’t care.
When we’ve been separated for any amount of time, he comes running for me.
He’s overjoyed that I’m there.
Not because I’m the perfect mom.
Not because I’m always happy and fun.
Not because I can make everything better.
But because I showed up.
Just because I’m me. I’m his mama.
His love for me is as pure as love can be. It’s absolutely unconditional. And my love for him is the same.
No matter how tough the day has been, and no matter what we’re going through, he knows it’s safe there, in my arms.
Again and again, he will give me another chance to get things right.
And in the meantime, when I fail, he will still come running for me.
Lord, let me be like this child, who models Your love better than any grown-up I know.
Let me run for the people I love with inexplicable glee, even as they make mistakes.
And help me remember to run to You.
Let me embrace Your unconditional, open-arms kind of love in every moment.
Because on these hard days, at least I know I’m safe when You’re holding me so tight.