It will not stop a war now, but I’m gonna love my kid I’ll tell her every day that she’s got the things we need So she’ll believe the truest thing I know If I have any say (That power flexes big and tall, but hope and beauty strike it) It will not jam the guns up, but I’m gonna kiss my man Let our limbs wrap all around for to do what arms are made Worship the Imago Dei, not burst it into shrapnel If I have any sway We’ll hold each other when we’re scared and make ourselves more whole It will not soothe a leader’s greed, but…
-
-
When Baby Cries Make You Superwoman
That feeling rises up from the gut. A fullness that tightens bones and organs and reaches my throat like a noose. Things are piling up and toppling over and my hands are far too small to catch it all. I am not big enough for this. I’m not mature enough. I’m not wise enough. I’m not disciplined enough and I don’t have enough. And just when my heart starts pounding he cries from the other room and I have to take a break from my worry to tend to his. Those delicious little arms wrap tight around his Momma’s neck while he forgets his nightmare and softens, whimpers, nuzzles in.…
