Recently, I read my “About Me” page and I laughed bitterly as I read the introduction of a mother who was brave and strong and certain. Even the name of my blog seems to mock me. Esther was strong, courageous, and she appeared at peace. She changed a nation.
Here I am feeling battered and bruised by grief. Uncertain and fearful. I feel as if I don’t matter any longer. I’m just surviving every day. Days spent in tears, not in victory.
But then I think, maybe I can have a heart like Esther. I can bravely face each day without the child I should have in my arms. I have not shut myself off to love-instead I have embraced my children even more strongly than before. I gaze into their eyes even more deeply, longing to learn and memorize who they are.
Every day, I can find strength I don’t have and courage that isn’t there to lay aside myself and my pain to take care of those in my care and do it joyfully. I can find more compassion and grace in everything. And maybe I can change a nation-everyday I pour into others-especially those given in my care.
So maybe having strength and courage isn’t always some big thing that everyone acknowledges. Maybe its in the small things that make up our lives. A heart that has a sense of destiny-a heart of Esther.