I want to raise soldiers.
I want my children to become adults who possess a fierceness that compels them to protect the people they love, who shield the weak from embarrassment and who keep their wits about them through the toughest circumstances.
It is sobering to realize that my children and I can see the sunlight through windows free of bars and run in the safety of our backyard because of men and women who chose to leave the safety of theirs. I can be with my husband everyday because my friend is separated from her husband by half a world.
I want my children to be great explorers, to push beyond other people's expectations and crush through their own inhibitions. I want them to abhor mediocrity...to recognize peer pressure for what it is--irrelevant...to find their worth in what they truly are, children of God.
I don't want them to blend in with the crowd when I'm raising them to stand out.
Whether my children ever formally enlist in a national army or not, I hope they possess the heart of a soldier when they have fully grown...with hands tender enough to teach their children how to ride a bicycle and hearts strong enough to rise above prejudice.
I am the mother of three children, though most days I feel like a child myself, walking on wobbly adult legs. How can I ever accomplish this great task of raising adults who know that wisdom is true strength and gentleness is a virtue. How do I teach them to have lips that are quick to smile, firm enough to say no, and tender enough to kiss?
In the end, I hope it can be said that my children did hard things, endeavored to right the wrongs of injustice in their world and spent themselves in a worthy cause.
(H&M skirt, Gapkids shirt, Anthropologie belt, Steve Madden pumps, Nine&Co. bag, Charlotte Russe shades)
Today, I remember...
and because I'm a mom, I pray the soldiers of other moms find their way safely back home.