But she’s not my own. She’s not mine.
I hadn’t realized how much it hurt until I attended my cousin’s wedding last weekend. As I looked around, I couldn’t help but notice that at every table sat moms and dads with their children; while on the outside, we looked just like them, we weren’t. I’m not her mother. He’s not her father.
She’s not mine.
Throughout the evening, several people would casually stop me to ask how old she was and then compliment her pretty dress. With each one, I would smile back and say, “She’s three, and thank you.” I felt like an imposter. They thought I was her mother, but she’s not mine.
Throughout the reception, many people would make comments such as, “She sure is a cutie” and “You sure do have a pretty little one.” Each compliment made me smile, but right before I would respond with a “thank you,” my head would slowly lower as I was reminded that she’s not mine.
Once the music was turned up, and I stood amongst the other “moms” watching their children dance in the middle of the dance floor, the words, “she’s not mine,” kept resounding in my mind. Whenever I pointed out to someone her cute dance moves, my smile would quickly fade as I remembered her lively personality, adorable shoulder shake, and magnetic smile didn’t come from me because she’s not mine.
At one point in the evening, I couldn’t find her or my husband, but I eventually spotted the two of them dancing together in the corner. It was the most precious sight as he held her, swaying back and forth, with her head resting on his shoulder. As I sat down to watch, tears began to fill my eyes as I thought, “she’s not mine.”
The words “she’s not mine” have never echoed so loudly in my heart as they did that night. But as we drove home, I glanced in the backseat, then back again at Daniel. While staring at him and feeling the warm touch of his hand holding mine, I couldn’t help but smile as I silently whispered, “she’s not mine, but he is.”
Too often in life, I get so focused on what I don’t have or what isn’t mine that I overlook or forget the gifts and blessings God has already given me. My husband is the most incredible man I have ever met. He’s smart. He’s kind. He’s gentle. He’s handsome. He’s a man after God’s own heart, and he’s mine. All mine.
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