When they snip that umbilical cord and pass you the squalling babe, a part of you that has been growing and depending on you is now loose.

Before that moment, that baby was part of you.  You hugged the toilet for a season knowing that tiny being was being formed.  You ate well.  You rested when you could. And you decorated a nursery.  But all those moments lead to the moment with that child is wrapping water logged fingers around your pinky.

And when your newborn locks eyes with you, you understand that all the suffering of carrying this extra person for months was worth it.

After 9 long months you have just birthed a dream knitted together within you by the very hand of God. <— Click to Tweet

I don’t know about you, but I’ve birthed a lot of dreams in my short life.  Getting my driver’s licence (don’t laugh… I’m serious!), finishing college, marrying Derek, starting this fledgling photography business, writing the stories God gives are just a few.

But none of these dreams even compare to the three little dreamers running wild in my home.

My three are all 3 and under, so I don’t yet have an inkling as to what dream God placed in their heart to pursue. I know my Aeralind has a soft heart that hates to see others cry.  I know my Bronwyn is a natural leader and will do well if she disciplines herself to hear her followers leads.  I know that Sedryn delights in service as I watch him run to the dish washer intent on handing me forks while I put things away.  But my dreams for them are simple: that they would hear and believe the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and that they would pursue the dream He knitted into their unique hearts.

I think it’s fair to say that I’m not the only one dreaming big dreams for my children.  Moms all over this country are teaching their preschoolers to read.  Taking their elementary aged children to soccer, gymnastics, scouts, and music lessons.  Watching and coaching as their children encounter those tough middle school years.  Teaching responsibility by taking privileges and further coaching.  Scrimping and saving for that needed college education while their changing diapers.

But what about those moms on the other side of the world. The ones who live on around $1 a day. What are their dreams for their children?

I don’t think they’re any different.  When that 9 month gestation is up and the midwife (or neighbor or mom herself) cuddles the squalling babe in her arms, she sees a promise of a unique dream from the Great Dreamer.  And she will do whatever she can to help that child grow up to their potential.

She’s not any different than us.  And her child is not any different than ours.

She will go without meals to feed her little one: so would you.

She will let herself be attacked to defend her little one: so would you.

She will walk miles to beg to have her child put on the nearest Compassion School’s sponsorship list: so would you.

She will grow callouses on her knees praying for her child to walk the path of Christ: so will you.

The difference is, most of us will never have to do the first three things.  But the truth is we are blessed to do the last thing together.

So, mothers, I’m begging you: let those callouses on your knees develop while praying for a mother and child in poverty in addition to your own brood.  Give up a few lattes or those new shoes or that mother’s day brunch and give a mother’s dream child a chance to live.  Admit that your child doesn’t like soccer, or gymnastics  or scouts, or whatever activity you place them in and use that money instead to teach them about poverty by letting them sponsor and write to a real child in poverty.

Teaching our children to give to birth another’s dream is perhaps the best lesson we could hope to teach as moms.