Motherhood Is a Holy Thing

Post:
Motherhood is the hardest, most sacred assignment I’ve ever been given.

Not because I do it perfectly.
But because I do it with everything I have — even when I feel like I have nothing left.

I am a mother to three boys.
Three beautiful, bold, brilliant souls who stretch me, heal me, teach me, and test me.
Every day I mother in the tension — between caregiving and dreaming, between advocacy and exhaustion, between joy and grief.

I wipe tears and noses. I listen to stories that have no ending. I show up to games and appointments and hard conversations.
I teach them how to pray, how to rest, how to speak up, how to love.
I carry the weight of legacy — the kind our ancestors never got to pass down out loud — and try to make it light enough for them to carry forward with pride.

Sometimes I cry in the bathroom.
Sometimes I laugh so hard I scare the baby.
Sometimes I look at them and wonder how God trusted me with something this important.

Motherhood is not soft all the time.
It’s fire.
It’s fierce protection.
It’s a quiet kind of rage and a louder kind of hope.

I mother while caregiving.
I mother while grieving.
I mother while building something that can hold all of us.

And in it, I have learned:
I am not just raising sons.
I am raising legacy.
I am raising truth-tellers.
I am raising men who know how to love and be loved.
I am raising boys who have seen sacrifice up close — and still know joy is their birthright.

Motherhood breaks me and remakes me every day.
But I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Because this love? This work? This soul-deep knowing that I was made for them and they were made for me?

This is holy.

With every part of me,
Maya