More Than Labels

Tiger Mom, Helicopter Queen,
Crunchy, gentle, fierce, serene.
They name us like they understand,
But miss the prints of God's own hand.

We're not just habits, traits, or trends—
We're vessels of what God intends.
Not defined by style or brand,
But crafted by His loving hand.

They point to how we feed or teach,
As if His purpose doesn't reach.
Organic, strict, or loose and free—
Still rooted in His mystery.

They call us "too much" or "too soft,”
Yet God's own strength holds us aloft.
Our choices, flawed, yet filled with grace,
Made holy in His time and place.

We carry burdens, cast and bruised,
And still believe, though we're confused.
We speak in prayers beneath our breath,
While loving fiercely unto death.

He sees the tears we never show,
The fear beneath what we bestow.
The faith it takes to guide a child
When grace and grit are reconciled.

Not just the driver, cook, or nurse—
We’re kingdom builders, for better or worse.
Not just a voice in PTA halls—
We echo heaven in school walls.

So label us if you must try—
But God knows deeper, sees more, why.
Beyond the mess, beyond the name,
We rise and lead because He came.