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Caroline Godin contemplates all the signs and scars of motherhood and how she has learned to love them.


My stretch marks are a roadmap. They’re a bit colorful too, red and purple, a hint of blue. I gave some serious side eye to my cousin when she snapped back into shape like she didn’t just give birth a month prior. It’s okay. My stretch marks aren’t scars; they’re badges of honor. They’re a mark of love, showing the sacrifices I’ve made carrying my children. Once, my teenage daughter told me they were beautiful. That hit my heart so hard. Girl, you slay me!

Age can be viewed two ways. It can show as wear and tear, or as love and life. I’m not the type of girl to color my hair. My rogue stripe is working its way in, and I will not hinder it. I know a woman with beautiful silver hair, long, braided, and she’s got the most contagious smile. I want my hair to be like hers, and my smile too. I joke to my mother that I’ll go gray first. She likes her brown.

As we grow and age and experience, we change. This world wants us to be beautiful inside and out, or at least that’s the message. The secular push is to look beautiful outwardly, but if you’re truly beautiful inside, the outside will shine too. I’m not one to hide what life is doing to me physically. Now, that said, if you want to dye your hair brown, blond, or purple, it’s cool. It’s just hair.

 

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For my whole life I wanted children. God blessed me with three. I know others who were blessed that way. For some, no little one is poking at their scars. For another, her scars are invisible. For yet another, she focuses too much on loving one child and remembering the other that she doesn’t care about her appearance. They each do have blessings in their lives, but they also have different scars.

The glory of the young is their strength, and the dignity of the old is gray hair. (Proverbs 20:29)

 

You see, motherhood comes with markings. They’re signs of love. I will never despise my stretch marks because I am blessed to have them. I will love them. I will not cover my grays because I am blessed to stress over my loves. I will never say, “I wish they could stay little,” because I want to watch them grow and mature and live and love.

I love them fiercely and I will take on every scar in the world for them. Not just for my love, but for His. My mission is to teach them of the Love of the Father and that His plans for them are for goodness (Jeremiah 29:11) and salvation. He will never stop loving them (Jeremiah 31:3) no matter how they may falter or fall or fail. He is always there for them, waiting with open arms. So am I.

One day my children will grow and go. I will always have a place for them at home, just as the Father has a place prepared for us (John 14:1-4). Someday, we will all be called home to the Lord. As I wait for my loves to come to me, the Father waits even more for us to come to Him. His love and His patience is far greater than mine.

 

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My scars, my grays, my stress, my worry, even my empty wallet sometimes … it’s all a sign of my love. #CatholicMom

My children are all so very different. My girl is ready to conquer the world but not to take out the trash. My older boy is so sensitive and sweet. He’s the last to take care of his own needs but the first to run to my defense should anyone even think of insulting me. My little one is a joy to us all. He’s at once funny and independent yet grumpy and needy. They all have their personalities and they’re growing and learning. I honestly think the only reason I even care to be in shape is to keep up with them. Okay, I do want to be healthy for me too, but they are the priority.

We do that as mothers: we put our children at the top of our priorities. My scars, my grays, my stress, my worry, even my empty wallet sometimes … it’s all a sign of my love. So I love the things that cannot be any different. I love the gray hair. I love the fact that I have children to stress and worry over. I love my stretch marks. They are my badges of honor.

 

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Copyright 2023 Caroline Godin
Images: Canva