i realized what is making me cringe when i look in the mirror and see my bulge-ish self.
and it's not pretty.
it isn't the gorgeous pregnancy acne or the ballooning belly.
it's ... pride.
i was praying about my ugly feelings - feelings of ugliness, guilt, and unhappiness about both. and God showed me something really cool.
just a little verse in Job, about God "in whose hand is the life of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind" (Job 12:10).
God holds our life, our breath, in His hand. kind of like my body holds the life, and the breath, of my baby.
in a little, wonderful way, i get to be like Him.
in carrying this baby, i get to be a little tiny picture of Him and His nourishing, constant care. and He didn't count it shameful, what happened to His hands, when carrying me.
He bears marks in His body of the cost of bearing my sin.
i'm not trying to say i'm Jesus to this baby. or that a few stretchmarks or pounds are equivalent to the cost of salvation.
but i think that if He can look upon me and count me worth it, i can be a little bit like Him and look past the cost to the sweet life thriving within.
and that kind of makes it not about me anymore.
and not about what's happening to me.
but about what i get to do.
and Who i get to (oh-so-distantly) reflect.
which is something i'd much rather see in the mirror anyway.