Some women fear the fire. Some women simply become it. ~R.H. Sin
Ever since a dear friend gifted me a beautiful print with this quote, the words have churned round and round, finding a home in the nooks and crannies of my heart. Some women become the fire…
I’ve never felt so independent as I do in this season of working 9 to 11 hour days in a field that I love for a cause that I love.
Yet, I’ve never felt so weak as I have this pregnancy during what has proven to be a much more physically challenging set of trimesters.
I’ve never felt so conflicted between my roles as a wife, mama, friend, and career woman.
Never has there been so little time for so little extra. That extra book reading time with Abby. That extra afternoon time to make muffins. That extra evening time to laugh with friends. That extra weekend time to rest. Never has there been so little space for these little things. These little-big things.
And, so, I’ve drawn inward, trying to find my way.
It is my way. This going inward for introspection. This conserving heart space to ponder the changes. This growing quiet so not everyone knows what a toll this pregnancy has taken on my body. My own doubts. My desire to be nurtured myself when my body aches and is tired. My metamorphosis into a someone new.
I pray this new woman is someone remembered for how much she loved and gave and sacrificed even when she felt empty herself. I pray she is someone known for transparency and quiet strength. I pray it someone known for bravery. She became the fire…
For, I am becoming the fire.
I’ve walked past the threshold of fear and revel in the new calling that my family walked into this year. But, I’ve not figured it out yet. This balancing act between self-care and self-sacrifice. This great mission to daily reflect more and more of Christ’s glory and love and grace. I’m keeping my head above the water, but I’m certainly not winning any medals for my graceful swimming just yet.
And, that’s the thing. A fire doesn’t just burn in solitude and leave no trace of its existence. Fires are magnetic. Transforming. Holy and cleansing. Painful. Refining. Contagious.
I want to be these things. A woman of magnetic strength, lovely holiness, contagious grace.
So perhaps the question is how do we keep these questions at the forefront of our minds as we go throughout busy days, challenging careers, physical obstacles, relational demands? How do we tattoo these goals to our trembling hearts and become like fire?
I don’t believe we do it alone. Yes, the “becoming” is an individual journey, but we don’t live and love in a vacuum. We watch those going before us. We guide those coming behind us. We seek the Holy and live humbly before our God. We lay ourselves down on the altar for Him to become the internal flame that burns from the inside out. The giving way to the Spirit within us that isn’t quenched or afraid or overcome.
For I may be becoming the fire, but I am not strong enough to resist the heat on my own. It is Christ in me. My hope of glory. My first love. My comforter. My rock. He makes me brave.