Beautiful

Emma keeps telling me lately that I look beautiful.

My gut reaction is: What are you talking about? My clothes are stained with milk and spit up. I probably didn’t even comb my hair today, let alone style it. I’m still wearing maternity clothes that right now look more lumpy than cute. I have huge bags under my eyes.

But that’s not what she’s looking at. She’s looking at me taking care of her baby brother. These remarks inevitably come when I’m nursing or rocking or talking with Micah. My almost ten-year-old sees what I and most moms don’t see. When we love our kids, we are beautiful.

And it’s not just her. Bryan keeps telling me how wonderful and gorgeous I am as well (Yes, I do realize what I blessed woman I am). He’s seeing me express love to our baby with many, many acts of service, and it speaks to him as well. He sees me as greater than I am because of the outpouring of love to our baby and our family (even though he’s getting a little gipped right now as the little guy is using more than his fair share of time).

I would guess that 95% of us or more remember our moms as being pretty. I would guess that less than 25% of our moms felt that way. We are beautiful when we love our kids. Even in yoga pants. Even with spit up in our hair. Even when we’re tired or sick. Write it down, even if your kids aren’t still at home, our relationships are what make us beautiful to others (at least to those who matter).

Now, go love on someone, it’s cheaper than highlights.

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Amie

About Amie

Hi! I'm Amie. Bryan's wife. Joyful mother to three. Homeschool teacher. Seamstress. Kitchen experimenter. Trying to figure out this thing of being a disciple of Christ.
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