We don’t look like what we’ve been through.
“Thank God we don’t look like what we’ve been through”
I read this saying last week. I suppose it’s true. If we wore our life experiences on our body, we probably wouldn’t be very attractive.
Some of us would be downright ugly.
Scars from every unhappy story told on our face… loves lost, lives stolen. Bodies beaten and battered.
But then I do look like what I’ve been through… I’m a mom. My body will NEVER be what it was before I had children.
I’ve got stretch marks from pregnancy, and a scar across my abdomen from when I gave birth to Corey and Josh.
My back is permanently sore and bent. My hips are too big, but perfect for carrying children. My shoulders slouch, and my tailbone hurts from sitting in bleachers, lawn chairs, and audiences for 20 years.
Maybe we just choose to cover up the good things like wearing clothes that cover the stretch marks of child birth. And disguise our pain of loss with smiles.
Today it’s been 27 months since my son was murdered.
Thank God we don’t look like what we’ve been through… indeed.
(Footnote- Kaufman (Royals) Stadium- 1998. Front to back- Corey, Justin, Me pregnant with Josh, and my niece Leanne)
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