*Note: This is an older blog (2007) that I wanted to reinstate on my new site. I still enjoy it and I hope you do too.
Mother’s Day came and went just like all the others before it, except this year, I was a mom, therefore rendering the day sunnier, breezier and scented with wildflowers. Life is not the same as it was. I’ve got a tattoo.
Lukus drove me and Taytem out to Robber’s Cave (one of Jesse James’ hide-outs) in southeastern Oklahoma for a day of hiking, exploring and adventure. It got especially adventurous when we realized that it was twice as far as we thought it was, making it three hours out and three back. We’d already gotten a late start, and Monday was a work day. But we kept on trekking down the highway in The-Middle-Of-Nowhere, U.S.A. Taytem was not happy. The poor thing intermittently sent us loud distressed signals, her code for “I did not sign up for this!” But she did pretty well overall, and once we got there, strapped her on to Lukus’ back, and I snapped a wide-smiled picture of her, it became worth it.
We began our hike and I was pleasantly surprised by how pretty it was. Although, when I expressed that to Lukus, I made the mistake of qualifying it with, “You know, for Oklahoma.” Why do I do that? I can be such a spoiled brat sometimes. But we kept going. Pretty soon, the steps got steeper, the look-outs got higher and I found myself paying much more attention to Lukus’ steps than my own. He had my baby on his back.
Lukus is very athletic. I have never seen him trip. He is often amazed at my ability to trip and fall while sitting down. She was, statistically speaking, much safer with him than me. But still I found myself trying to suppress the internal palpitations and saying, “Let’s just go home.” Lukus tried to reassure me, but he can’t see my new tattoo. It’s the one written on my heart that defines me as a genuine mother. It is written in blood and water, in DNA and cells, in spit-up and baby poo. In permanent ink it says, “Protect her!” and I will with every part of my being.
I was not one of those little girls that played with dolls and pretended I was a mommy. I played spy games and pretended I was a pirate. I never baby-sat as a teenager and instead of Home Economics I took Auto Shop. I guess I supposed I would be a mom someday, it just wasn’t on my radar. There were too many other things I wanted to do. A couple years after Lukus and I got married, he started talking about making a family. He was ready to be a dad, he said. He’d always known it was a big part of who he was. I didn’t understand, and I wasn’t ready. I often felt like something was wrong with me, and I honestly couldn’t understand why people had kids. It seemed like pure instinct, an instinct I didn’t have. One day in the shower, I let the tears of inadequacy fall, and I found my reason: “God, I want to have kids so I can understand your Father’s heart. I want to have kids so I can know you better.” And there it was.
And now, there was Taytem, sitting on Daddy’s back, oblivious to the 10-mile view, but watching me with her giant, two-tooth grin. Yes, I would protect that with my life, and yet I am so powerless should Lukus mis-step. I was so nervous the whole time that he would fall with her on his back. Lukus is big, he’d be fine, but my little one…But then I remembered my prayer from several years earlier, and I remembered my Father’s heart. The tattoo emblazoned in me was given by my Father, and He’s got the same one. It’s written on His hands and feet, his head and His side. It says, “Protect her!” and He already did. If Taytem can trust me to do everything in my power to protect her, how much more can I trust the same from the God who has rescued me time and time again? The instincts in me are helpless shadows that can only give way to the love and strength of the One that gave them to me.
This Mother’s Day was a good one. Not because I got taken out, or celebrated, or thanked for being a mom. It was good because I realized that in spite of all my inadequacies, I know I love my child with all my heart, and that makes me a good mom. But more importantly, I see that God has answered my prayer. I know Him better through my child and I understand His heart through my own. He and I’ve got matching tattoos.
