Motherhood, My Invitation

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for motherhood—crucible,
mental health course—no way to opt out,
sleep—a mocking specter,
messes—everywhere, always;
but this too: my first real invitation to be kind
to the uglier parts of myself.

Blessed are You
for seeing me when I was unseen;
for holding my hand
when motherhood was a mirror.
I saw things I didn’t want to see,
didn’t want to be,
and became afraid of myself.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for being my companion in the night,
a place to belong
when I didn’t belong in my own self.
You waited, waited for me to hear You,
hear You above the shame,
because You loving me when I hated myself
was the invitation to know my wholeness
and love myself, and in so doing,
to love my children, too.