More than a Mom

I've been told on Mother's Day I'm more than a mom. I understand, I guess. I'm a wife, a sister, an aunt, a friend, a woman. Lots more roles to play besides "mom." It should free me to think of myself as more than a mom. But it exhausts me to think of all the shoes I have to fill because I have enough pairs to pick up during my day already that don't even belong to me!

When God called to me in my kitchen I was almost shocked that He'd meet me there in the first place. It's a kitchen. What business did God want with me in my kitchen? Purpose. Divine, Holy purpose.

"I am still calling, even housewives in kitchens." And I should not be surprised by this at all. 

I am more than just a mom because He made me with purpose--purpose that doesn't wait until my kids are grown or school bound. Purpose that dwells in my core and rises up to pray for broken daughters of injustice. It's otherworldly and without title. It's transcendent. It's uncompartmentalizable. And it's mine.

I'm a warrior washing dishes, rearing strong-willed kids with fierce love and praise-filled lips. I have hands that scrawl out His love on paper and tie up ribbons on gifts for the forgotten. I strum a weapon of warfare to call men to arms and the church to get a grip on the God that loves them. My voice is raised to an audience of One and sounds an alarm to awaken the dead. 

I am more than just a mom because I am His--and that is no small thing. It's bigger than any title I can hope to ever have, it's more solid than what in this world might define me by how I am related here on earth. A daughter of the King. That is who I am. 

And I know it, not just in my head but in the very depths of my soul. I am His and He is mine. It's not because someone told me, it's because my soul cries "Abba Father" and He hears me. I know this because I'm known. I know this because He's made Himself known to me. 

I am more than a mom. I am His.