Longing to Belong

"A desired fulfilled is sweet to the soul" Proverbs 13:19

The Bible cradled in my arms was my baby that I gingerly laid down a a bed made from my coat. The sermon was just noise in the background. My mind was lost in a dream of being a mom to that precious Bible baby. A dream that has lasted a lifetime and involved many baby props.

This memory is one of the most vivid ones I have. I considerate it the moment my heart's desire was born. The desire to have my own family, husband and children was birthed on a hard metal chair in a crowded sanctuary. A desire that has taken me to the depths of despair and has brought out in me both good qualities and exposed an envy I still struggle with.

I imagine a big house, full of noisy kids, with toys scattered and music and laughter. Some people might being cringing at the thought of mess ad noise, but it brings a smile to my heart. I long for this! Instead I live in a modest size home, with pet toys and animal hair all over, the occasional bark and meow from my furries, but otherwise alone and silent. I don't hate it, but it doesn't make my heart smile. I long for the desire of my heart to be fulfilled. I long for the squeals of laughter, artwork hanging from the fridge, the telling of bad jokes that they laugh at, movie nights, bedtime stories, and all the rest. I long for toys scattered, beds that need to be made, homework to be checked, and sometimes hard heart-to-heart talks. I long for the messy right along with the beautiful.

This past school baseball season, I sat among the ones I envy the most in the world, mothers. I cheered quietly for the boys, who aren't my own, that I came to watch. I didn't feel I had earned the right to cheer loudly. They weren't mine and everyone knew it. What would they think if I was as vocal as a mother? I don't have that badge of honor. As much as I love the boys I came to see, each silent car ride home after the game made my heart ache. I wanted to driving a smelly kid home and look forward to getting the well-earned grass stains out of his white pants. Some moms, and I totally get why, drove home dreading the chore of another stain scrubbing event. I envy their struggle. 

Standing among these moms after the game, to congratulate the players, made me feel obviously out of place. I wondered how many thought that I didn't belong just as much as I felt like I didn't. I listened as they talked about school, formals, meetings for the next school year as their boys planned to move up a level, and I longed to be a part of the conversations. I wished I had to figure out my schedule so I could attend the meeting or buy the outfit for the dance. The envy that I felt as they spoke of things wonderful and things that caused planning to pull off made me want to cry right there on the spot. 

I long to belong with the moms. I long to be apart of the struggles of who's going to car pool the kids to the next event. I long to plan to go the meeting with them. I long to buy the birthday present for the party they are all planning to send their kids to. I long to proudly say "oh thanks" when someone congratulates my kid on how he or she performed on the field, on the court, at the performance, at the art exhibit, or at the ceremony. I long to beam with pride on my child, wrinkle my nose at their smelliness, laugh at their funny stories, and hold back the tears as they cry in disappointment. 

I long to belong to one of the greatest and most important groups of people. I long to belong with the moms.