This morning before I left for work I took the time to lay down beside my four year old daughter. She didn’t wake, and she never knew I was there, but it happened to be the best part of my morning. I lay brushing the hair gently from her face, tracing my finger lightly across her cheekbone, and placing my hand lovingly on her bony back while I prayed.
Thank you for the opportunity to learn, Lord.
I don’t always take pleasure in the pain of parental education. Honestly… hardly ever. In fact, the majority of the time I feel like a big fat failure, and instead of ending my days grateful for how I’m growing as a mother, I usually end up beating myself pretty severely for where I fall short.
Why did I raise my voice so harshly at the two year old for peeing on the rug?! She’s two, for goodness sake.
Why do I get so aggravated by the end of the day when they want to climb all over me? Instead of holding on to them I just want to be left alone. I’m never left alone!
I start out okay, and my intentions are good, but as the day drags on, and as my energy and patience wanes, I find myself with a short fuse. I love them more than the air I breathe, but in those moments all I really want is bedtime to hurry up and come.
Guilt. Dirty, rotten guilt. That’s what I feel when the lights go down and their eyes close for the night. I don’t feel like I’m learning. Instead I feel like I’m lagging behind. I feel like I pray and pray to be the kind of mother my kids need, but I am left with the reality that I am not. Not even close.
I will never be the mother I need to be.
And it’s in these silent moments of surrender that I realize I cannot be the mother I need to be for my children. No matter how hard I try. In my own strength I cannot change. I’m unable to not yell, not get angry, and not become frustrated at the difficulties inherent in parenting. And no matter how much I desire to do better, in the end I will always fall short.
John 15:4-5
Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.
I will never be the mother I need to be. Not in my own strength. But through Christ I can do all things.
There’s a lot I don’t know, but one thing I do. God called me to be a momma, and aside from being a wife, it is one of my life’s greatest callings. Because He has called me to it, I am certain He will equip me to perform it well. I will falter, mistakes will be made, but the desire to be the kind of mother God has called me to be does not change.
I’ll grow weary, but He will give me strength. He will sustain me. I’ll fall down, but He will pick me back up. I will become discouraged, but He will renew my hope. I will fumble, but I will not fail when He is with me. Not really. And through it all, through each misstep I take, He will lead me. I will not become lost.
As I rubbed my hand across my daughter’s shoulder blades this morning I prayed.
Thank you Lord for this gift of motherhood, and thank you that each and every day I learn through it how to be more like the woman you desire me to be.
Galatians 6:9
Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.
Thank you that I’m doing something special in this child’s life, and although at times I cannot not see it, and I definitely do not feel it, thank you that I am contributing to your kingdom in this little job I call being a mom.