My sons are a portal.
Their existence allows me to step into another dimension.
You probably weren’t expecting sci-fi imagery—or were you? In this dimension they transport me to, the pressures and requests of the exterior world are muffled.
Like magic, they disappear.
They are at a stage that requires my full involvement, all I can give is (mostly) theirs.
If they are safe and enjoying this world of fire and ice, learning to be present and at peace, that is enough.
There is no force or strain in this day-to-day because everything that I can manage has to be enough.
My sons are a portal.
I’m not worried about anyone else because why would I be?
Is there anyone else more important in this world than the family that passes through the halls of this home?
Or the friends who take the time to rocket over to our little part of the cosmos and knock on the front door?
Like magic, the relationships that aren’t mutual, boundaried, or beneficial disappear.
God bless the few who stay close through the most treacherous years of a young family’s life.
Maybe this is the way it should always be—fewer, closer, and wholly mutual.
My sons are a portal.
I ask them to lean into who they are instead of requiring them to fit a mold that makes my life more convenient.
Showing them how to engage with their own bodies and hearts is a full time job. I model self-compassion, service, and balance and pray that they see what I mean.
“Flow not force,” I tell them on repeat. “If you have to force it, it isn’t yours.”
My sons are a portal.
Don’t hide, precious ones, you are whole and every ounce is goodness.
Don’t avoid, sweet babies, you can run a lap around the world and find that what you were running from is waiting wherever you find yourself.
Don’t hate, my loves, you’ll meet people who weren’t loved well or raised in peaceful homes, and that disables them from loving themselves and the world around them well. Love anyway.
Like magic, I speak the lessons aloud that I still need to learn.
My sons are a portal.
In this dimension, I know God, I know Heaven, I know myself.
God is with me.
Heaven is here.
And in my depths, I am that same child who deserves the mothering I practice each day.
My sons are a portal.
On the other side, we meet the One who birthed the universe and who has held us since the day we were born.
Mother God, thank you for allowing me to know the magic of motherhood too.