I've grown insecure at times when I think about this ministry. I tease myself with doubting questions... "Is it really a ministry?" "Does it even matter?" "Shouldn't I be doing more?"
On occasion I find myself weary with it all. Counting beads, placing orders, trying to figure out where I put that address, counting beads, realizing I've STILL not ordered enough, counting beads, running to the post office, sitting in the middle of the floor opening impossible packages of bracelets late at night, counting beads, worrying about ways to get the money I need, logging receipts and bracelets distributed, and counting more beads...
It's usually in the middle of the day-to-day chore list that I ask myself if I'm just doing this for me; or is it for the mommies that open up the package in the mail or walk away from the hospital with a little green bag in their hand and a big hole in their heart.
When I take a step back from it all I can see the big picture much more clearly. This is for me, it is for Hudson, and it is for you - the one whose whole world just came crashing down.
It's not about a piece of pretty jewelry. No, it's not about the bracelet. That's just the part that people can see. The bracelet is just the tangible piece. Hudson's Bands of Hope isn't just a little thing that gives bracelets away. What warms my heart the most is knowing that all of this has inadvertently created a safe community for moms. It tells them that they're not alone.
Every time a group of women gather together to assemble bracelets I'm amazed at how God brings at least one whose pain is fresh. I've seen women string beads as they talk about their experience and encourage the one whose heart is heaviest. I've seen friendships grow over stamping envelopes and tying bags. Often times the hands that make the bracelets are wiping away tears at the very same time.
Bracelets have been handed to women who have never spoke of their loss until that moment because then they felt like it was safe.
When a bracelet is worn a platform is created. A door is opened for that mother to speak of her child.
My story has encouraged other women to run with their own passion to help.
Hudson's Bands of Hope has done more than I could've ever dreamed.
Ultimately I'm reminded that Misty has nothing to do with this. God has everything to do with it. I'm not just being humble. It's really, really not me. I'm more confident of that than anything else. This was God's vision and one of his purposes for my Hudson. It's such a sweet feeling knowing I didn't sit down with lists, diagrams, pencils and erasers trying to come up with a good idea. God wrote it on my heart. He designed it all.
The questions and weariness never linger for long when I remind myself that it's not me. It's not just a bracelet or a chore list.
It's an expression from the heart of God to the broken hearts of moms everywhere.
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