On Motherhood

The blood of mothers
Coursing through my veins
Is powerful potion to my soul.

Mother Eve, whose courageous choice
Set a precedent for mothers all:
Sacrificing her own comforts and safety,
She bestowed a gift, exquisite and far-reaching;
The gift to be and to have joy.

Pioneer mothers, who never looked back
At the smoldering remains of their past.
Trudging forward daily, they suffered much
For their faith
For their prophet
For their God
For those who would follow:
Generations unknown.

The mother whose womb gave me life
Whose faith made me strong
Whose strength built my faith.
She has given no less than those before her,
And her children call her blessed.

Another mother, whose blood is not mine
Loved me as if,
Without waiting for my love to come first.
Her other priceless gift to me?
Her son, with his steady, unblinking love
For God and
For me.
Now her blood joins with mine
In my children, born of love and covenant.

How can I not rejoice in my destiny, my privilege?
I join these and other noble daughters, mothers,
Who know that greater joy comes from sacrifice
Than is found in seeking pleasure.
I glimpse the vision of that woman, that Someday Me
As this refiner's fire molds and shapes,
Burning, purifying, beautiful.

I see my daughter and I realize
How much I must show her
Teach her
Love her
Nurture within her
So that she, too, will choose motherhood.
The errand of angels, the blessing of God.