I am a woman of faith. My belief in God, and His hand in my life, are the foundation for everything I do. Including the way I mother my children.
I want them to know Him, to trust Him, to know that they are never alone -- even when I am not with them.
And sometimes I am rewarded for my efforts. Sometimes my children say or do something that lets me know they have been converted. For a woman of faith no reward is greater than a child who believes.
My daughter, Jessica, rewarded me recently with this beautiful poem. And my heart melted.
I'm Yours
These are my hands.
They're not very big.
They aren't pretty or slender, either.
My fingers are stubby, and my knuckles stick out.
I have hangnails all over.
But here they are anyway:
My hands.
These are my feet.
They're really quite squat.
They're callused and a little dirty.
I have a hard time squeezing them into high heels.
I'm not sure they're the right shape.
But here they are anyway:
My feet.
This is my heart.
I know it's not perfect.
It's scared sometimes, and weak.
I don't use it as often as I probably should.
It just looks so small.
But here it is anyway:
My heart.
God,
it's hard not to feel like
I'm not very much.
Your power is so great,
and I'm only a tiny piece
of everything.
But I love you, and I know that -
incredibly -
you love me.
So I trust you.
Take them.
Take my hands.
Use them to reach people who need you.
Let them lift spirits and carry burdens.
Make them strong enough to do your will.
They're yours.
Take my feet.
Use them to get your gospel moving.
Let them guide me on the path of righteousness.
Make them quick enough to run to my brother's aid.
They're yours.
Take my heart.
Use it to find your children in their sorrows.
Let it show love to those who need it most.
Make it soft enough to hear when you whisper.
It's yours.
I give you all that I have,
all that I am.
I may not be much,
but
I'm yours.
