Abundance

I examined my naked body this morning. Laying in a hot bath, I lifted my arms, pointed my legs, ran my fingers across my skin, across the lines and curves that are my body. Instead of sizing it up, I encouraged myself to see its beauty. It felt beautiful.

I was thinking about all the places childbirth has changed me. The jagged marks of stretching on my stomach, my swayed back, my legs, the long, crooked scar between my hips. Instead of imperfections and flaws, I saw them for what they were, those marks. Proof of sacrifice. Proof of endurance, of pain once felt. Proof of the miracle that is conception, pregnancy, delivering, and the vast life beyond that begins the moment you hear that tiny, precious cry. It’s all precisely miraculous.

What a physical, mental, emotional privilege it is to be a woman. To see the beautiful fruit of your sacrifice, your labor, as it were, alive and healthy before your eyes.

Kahlil Gibran said “We choose our joys and sorrows, long before we experience them.” I’ve loved those words for oh, so long. They applied to my life so many times.

I have two of my own little Joys, running around this house. I chose them. They are the best thing to come from my abundant, beautiful, scarred body. I would never change one thing.       

Inspiration on womanhood.

{photo via here}

While we've all got motherhood (womanhood) on our minds, I decided I wanted to link up to an essay that really inspired me a few months back. The more I thought about it, I decided it was important enough for me to imbed into this post. It has really changed the way I feel about myself as a woman - daughter, wife and mother.

I hope you find it inspiring as well.

Xoxo!

Manifesto Female: What I Have Learned

By Courtney Kendrick of CJane Enjoy It

My older sister Page once said to me, "I don't know what it is, but giving birth to my daughters was an entirely different experience. It's almost as if they were made out of a different essence."

That is where I want to begin.

I am writing this essay with the essence I was birthed with, the spirit that fills my body, the soul that communes with divinity. This is the part of me where I am most comfortable, though I am not always good enough to be there. This isn't an official doctrine of my church, but it is influenced by what I have studied out in my mind and heart. It is me, essentially.

Every Sunday I stand with the young women in my church and repeat a bold statement called the Young Women Theme. It starts, I am a daughter of God, who loves me and I love him . . . (read the entire theme: here).


If I believe I am a daughter of God then I believe that every woman is a daughter of God.


Every woman who has, will and now exists has characteristics of heaven. This is not restricted to those baptized in my church, this is the genesis of all women. We came from a Heavenly Father who made our female spirits receptive to hearing inspiration and revelation from a Divine Source. These powers are written in the code of our biological make-up, as well as hidden in our spirit. We may know they are there, we may not. I believe they are there.

With these powers of innate wisdom and discernment--given from God, women are capable of anything. They can create. They can destroy. They can change. They can evolve. And because of this I believe in a woman's endless capabilities, that when paired with a God (also known as a sense of self) there is no end to what a woman can choose.


She can fight injustice. She can heal from injustice. She can help other women fight or heal from injustice. She can work. She can be satisfied in work. She can find confidence. She can capture truth and live it entirely. She can rise above. She can be aware. She can find intelligence placed inside of her that no force can destroy on this earth, no matter how hard it becomes. She can listen. She can hear. She can obey. She can develop her own rules, and obey those too. Woman is clever enough, resilient enough and strong enough to find paths that weren't always apparent.


She isn't less than, or more than, the next woman or man. She is her own entity which becomes cheapened when compared to others. When following the promptings inside of her soul to do whatever is important for her own life plan she simply has no equal.


But these powers are the most potent when used to love other women. To support. To carry. Lift. Encourage. Serve. Fight alongside. And in my experience, this is also the hardest part about being a woman. There are forces at work designed to turn woman against woman in an effort to completely destroy the massive amount of good we can do when united. But I also know that I feel the strongest as a woman, when I am helping another woman, or being helped by another woman--whether she is someone I know, or a someone who lives across the world. I'd be smart to unceasingly search for opportunities to serve. (Sometimes I regrettably forget this.)


I can't write for every woman, and every woman's unique circumstance. I am not aware of every tribal, local, religious, federal policy on women around the globe. I believe a woman's ultimate goal is happiness, but I can't begin to describe what that looks like for everyone. What I want to hear from other women, is what I will give in return: We can do it. Whatever it is. We can do it. We have done it before. We will do it again and again. We contain God-given endless abilities. We are here for each other. You teach me. I will teach you. God is with us. We can, I can, you can.


We can achieve our potential as wives, we can do it as mothers, we can do it with no title (or uterus) at all. If all we aim to do in this life is discover our eternal intelligence we'd still be fulfilled beyond human capacity. I will never feel sorry for a woman who seeks the best of what this life is offering, even if what she finds doesn't look like what I have found.


Our bodies are built to be strong in principal and natural femininity. Femininity looks different on every woman-- it is the essence that sets us apart from each other, and from man. Femininity isn't about dresses, make-up or shoes, it is about fulfilling our specific female identity. Only we know what that is, but it is encoded in our bodies. It looks good on us. And sadly, the sacredness of our bodies are the most exploited entity on this planet.


But we can change that too.


Women will seek out what feels inherently best to them--the simple life, the complicated life, the busy life, the communal life. I am learning to trust this as we all share the same birthright of being female. If women want labels, so be it. As for me, Daughter of God is all-encompassing. It is as practical as buying cleaning solvent from the door-to-door salesman, to leaving an unhealthy marriage. I know the women who came before me made sacrifices, fought battles and picked hard choices. I know they were led by the same inner voice I hear today, the voice of a loving God who champions his daughters, gives them hope in all things if they seek it, and looks after them even in the darkest of places. It is impossible to comprehend just how powerful he made us. Sometimes I get a glimpse, and it sends me reeling for days.


I've always like what Emma Lou Thayne said about writing as a Mormon woman, "The pillars of my faith are still intact, but the roof has blown blessedly off the structure to reveal a whole sky full of stars."


I am a happy woman and I owe it to my Father in Heaven.


This is my essence.

Beauty.

{My Grandma Anna Seamons Dixon, 1938}

Do you want to know the cutest, most romantic thing I've heard all week?

Last night, I snuggled up next to my ninety-two year-old grandma for a picture. It's always a treat to see her; to hug her and kiss her soft face. She's so fluffy and little. And let me tell you, the toll ninety-two years can have on a woman's body!


Her hair is entirely white, her hands shake, her voice is quiet, and the limbs of her body knob and curve - she can no longer walk unaided.

But in light of it all, right before the picture was taken, she tilted her head towards me and said, "I hope my hair looks alright."

If that isn't the cutest!

There is still a girl within her, at heart. And the idea of it, the idea of romance, is ever-changing. Like the body, it ages and dims. But I know it never really leaves us. Not ever.

It tarries with us here and hereafter. It's so much a part of who we are.

I'm thankful for that. I find it feminine and charming.

I find it reflective of eternity. Of true love.

The very thought of it warms me.

Boots and Earrings.

{darling cassie's wedding day, 2007}

Tonight I wore clothes I haven't worn since before I was pregnant with Morgan. Oh, my precious collection of darling apparel from my younger years. I miss you, cute clothes! I miss you. And I've replaced you with cotton shirts and sweats.

Because, you see, I go for comfort these days. Usually. Except for special occasions.

And tonight was one of those (mostly, because I actually left the house alone).

I wore a red sweater with a striped collar and dangling earrings. I wore black leather boots and one of my vintage wool coats.

I left Morgan with Bella (and Jared).

I joined the women in the ward for dinner. For raspberry-pretzel dessert. For Christmas songs. And while we sat, we ate. And talked. About the frigid weather, about wild children, about giving birth. And as much as I tend to excuse myself from church activity (aside from Sunday worship, of course), it was a delightful time. I felt a part of the chatty, female race again, which, I must admit, was kind of nice.

I felt Christmas-ey. I felt cute.

I felt like my mom. I felt like my mom in a certain memory I have of when I was the little one being left at home for the evening by a dolled up, lovely smelling, pearl-wearing mother.

Tonight, I left home dressed up and femininely bundled, even my shoes clinked like hers as I walked out the door.

It was a lovely night, indeed.

Home for me.

This morning, I woke up wishing I was back at my home in the country. I've been missing the girl in me. The fact is she is a mother now, and a wife. Not just a girl, like she used to be.

Every now and then, I want her to resurface, to breathe a little.

This morning, I imagine myself home, snuggled with Sunny in a blanket next to the fire. My dad would be fixing his speciality - whole wheat walnut waffles. He likes his burnt-crisp.

He sets the peanut butter out for me.

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Tuesday we'll make our way back home. Home for the holiday. Those words sound so sweet to me.

Last year at this time, the anticipation of returning was nearly the only thing that got that post-partum wreck-of-a-woman (me) through the first few weeks of motherhood. It was something to hope for, something to look forward to.

Going home.

It made me well again.

It made we realize that somehow, some way, things had changed. My concept of home had transformed itself from something physical, into something emotional - even spiritual.

Only now am I learning how home is here and there for me - that my heart longs to be in a great many places - places I've come to know and love deeply.

Home is very much a feeling -- a feeling that I channel all my endeavors to create for my own darling - a feeling that the girl within longs to revisit every now and then.

Especially as snow falls, and as the weather cools and I begin recalling the warmth and perfection of childhood.

This week, I am coming home.

To Shape.

"To help another human being reach one's celestial potential is part of the divine mission of women. As a mother, teacher, or nurturing spirit, she molds living clay to the shape of her hopes. In partnership with God, her divine mission is to help spirits live and souls be lifted. This is the measure of her creation. It is ennobling, edifying, and exalting."

Russel M. Nelson

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Simply put, this quote is beautiful. It makes me feel important, loved. It makes me understand more about what Heavenly Father wants me to become. It makes my heart yearn to do whatever He asks. I know that Heavenly Father knows each one of us individually. We are his.

:

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a woman, what it means to be mother. What it means to me now, what it meant to me one year ago, as I was preparing to give birth.

What it meant to me before I was married, as a young woman, or even as a child, as I watched and learned from my own mother.

And I've been thinking about others whose situations are different than ours - couples without children, and even, too, those who may never marry. It seems that our hearts so often long for things - good things - that for some reason, may never be ours. We know there must be opposition in all things. What we have to learn is how to embrace whatever the Lord has in store for us.

It's really so simple. But can't learning to embrace be so challenging, even heartbreaking at times?

My mother, I believe, is the most faithful person I know. She, and my father, were never able to physically conceive children of their own. When I imagine how their arms must have ached, and their hearts must have longed, it brings tears to my eyes. Yet, here I am, so much theirs, I sometimes forget my mother didn't give birth to me. Through blessed adoption, there are three of us children in that family of mine. We all belong. God orchastrates all.

I think the very essence of womanhood, goes hand in hand with motherhood. To nurture, to look after, to be tender. And so it is with men and fathers. To strenghen, to provide, to protect. I know, in my heart, that these are heavenly, Godly traits. Inherited traits that we were given from our Heavenly parents.

I believe that if we shape our lives in contour with The Gospel of Jesus Christ, we will flourish. And we will do so wherever we are at in our lives. We will learn all we are meant to learn. We will feel of God's love and feel true individual importance. We may learn through marriage. Through the bearing of children, through parenting. Or we may learn it through other service, through schooling, through jobs. While the plan of salvation is centered on the family, I know that we are sent here with the spiritual capacity to mother and father, even if, in our earthly lives, we may never physically get to. We have inherited, in a word, those characterisitics because of who we are - children of God.

As for me, I love being a woman. I love being a daughter, a wife, and a mother. I am thankful for a mindful Father in Heaven, who leads and guides me, and watches over me always. I'm especially thankful for a Savior, a friend, who sacrificed all and opened up eternity for all who are willing. A Savior who lives still, loves and saves - who mends and heals. Brings a certain hope that can warm all of our hearts. Wherever we are.