The Nest
by: Melissa P. Sharpe
My eldest daughter stood before the toothpaste-splattered mirror absorbing her reflection. With her delicate and childlike fingers, she looped threads of her silky hair to the crown of her head in an attempt to bring beauty to what she saw. Her thick eyebrows arched upwards as she caught me gazing at her from the hallway light. Her childhood seems to be slipping away far too swiftly. Laundry basket in hand, the chore would mock me another day as I cast it aside to aid my child.
As children grow, mothers grow too, capturing loveliness in life's seemingly mundane moments. For truth unfolds in the years as they pass. The moments that matter are far too fleeting.
For many of us, leadership begins within the brick and mortar walls of our homes. But motherhood can have many faces, as we are called to be spiritual mothers and mentors to those who are three steps behind us all the while being mothered and mentored from the well-earned wisdom of the women who are three steps ahead of us.
When I reflect on my greatest responsibility of leading my own daughters to become warriors for God's kingdom, I ponder the words penned by the Psalmist. Upon the silky onion-skinned pages of my Bible, they sit heavy upon me: “even the sparrow finds a home, and a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.”
This nest of ours. From the moment of its conception I knew this nest would be different, for I still carry the scars upon my soul from my own attempt to first make flight. I was not prepared nor apt to ascend into a cruel and unforgiving world. There wasn't enough of His words hidden within my heart to protect me from the sin and pain of my own making. My feathers were thin.
Because of this, I know I do all the things in a furious attempt to deny the truth that time is the most cunning of opponents. From the moment my first child was laid upon my chest, the Spirit laid it upon my soul that a maturing would happen. As my child grew, I would too. As she learned to rely upon me, I would learn to rely upon Him.
The clipping of my own wings to make space for theirs is my fickle attempt to outwit my enemy and keep them protected a little longer. But the time will come for me to fade into the distance so God can be at the forefront.
This nest of ours. I mourn the loss of each branch and twig that shifts in the night, making its plunder to the ground by the early morning dew. All the years I spent crafting this existence of ours; the safe confines of its walls in order to protect and preserve is not for nothing. I just keep pushing the truth aside to be dealt with another day as I put pressure upon the walls that enclose us to make more room.
This nest of ours will no longer be able to fit us all. No matter how I contort my body in order to nestle myself around theirs, it will inevitably cut off their ability to breathe. I must be attune to the Spirit and not make an altar of my nest but lay my nest before the altar.
I must lead them well so that I may let go, unfurling myself so they may stretch their limbs heavenward and soar.
Melissa is a writer and host of the podcast Life In The Trenches. A contributor to the podcast The Mom Inspired Show, she’s developed original content including Cultivating Your Village and Leave No Girl Behind: How to Deal With Mean Girls. She’s an active leader in Women Together International, from facilitating leadership interviews for their worldwide webinars, to writing for the ministry blog.