Yeah, that. But even more.
To know, be known, accepted, valued, loved.
How my heart ached when backs were turned on me, back in those vulnerable days of pimples and the right hair and the right labels on the backs of my jeans.
Maybe if I was thinner... maybe if I was prettier... maybe if I was funnier... I would be loved. I would belong.
But I didn't. I couldn't. I never would.
But then I did. I found my people. My God-given, call me in the middle of the night, are just one major accident away from inheriting my good plates.. and children... kind of people.
The thoughts of the right kind of labels never entered into the conversation.
Now we compare notes on pregnancies and stretch marks and husbands and massive family vehicles. We spill out our hearts on parenting, loving, breathing together.
And we belong. To each other, the our loves, to our God.
We write so we can understand what we lived today. - Lisa Jo of The Gypsy Mama
I'm linking up again to The Gypsy Mama for Five Minute Friday. What will you write today?