Motherhood is not for the faint of heart. Nor is just being a
woman who follows Jesus.
My life has been given it’s fair shake of ups and downs, bringing
out my best and my worst.
I’ve known full well my areas of struggle, those spots tender to
the enemy’s prodding. And it seems over time that slimy snake has figured them
out as well. I’d blame the enemy or my children or my circumstances but I know
right where the responsibility lies.
Like I tell my daughters daily, your mommy is a sinner. You are a
sinner. Your daddy is a sinner. Everyone is a sinner. I realized the other day
that I needed a change of definition when she posed that Nana and Papa couldn’t
possibly be sinners because they don’t yell. And we began again, deconstructing
sin.
We need to see our sin if we are ever to grasp the overwhelming
grace from Jesus death.
That’s my area of struggle. Keeping my tea pot of a temper from
screeching to a boil.
I’ve been a mother now for the past 3.5 years give or take. I
assure you, there has never in my life been a period of time so sanctifying. The
years of hemming me in.
There was a time in my life when I thought I had gotten my tea pot
under control. And I guess I did for awhile. Until everything in my control was
really not in my control. Nothing in motherhood is truly under my control. Well
maybe the choice of lunch is. Or whether or not my Bible opens.
But these littlest ones, the ones the Lord created for me to
mother. ME to mother. He knows me better than I know myself and He still
ordained for me to mother. These little ones cannot be controlled. Meaning they
will not always do just what I want when I want them to for my comfort and my
convenience.
That’s not really the meaning or intent of motherhood anyways.
They make my desire for order and cleanliness and introverted
freedom a chaotic and beautiful mess.
They boil the water in my tea pot.
Thank God they boil the water.
Thank God they hem me in.
Brings tears to my eyes that He loves me so much to give me these
girls and for them to sanctify me deeply. For me to wear my heart on my sleeve.
There’s no hiding from God. And there’s certainly no hiding from these little
ones. They know who I am.
I’m not sure when I’ll get this water to just simmer and not boil
over. Or even for the water to remain still. Never probably.
But there’s today, and the next minute. The next hour. The next
part to pray.
Pray that God will help me keep my water below the boiling point.
That He calm my heart. That
these girls will obey their momma with the intent of
obeying God.
Slowly but surely, because He said he would, God’s hemming me, in
all the right ways. A nip and a tuck and a gather. He’s bringing up the grime
and removing the grit. Cutting it off.
Growing me closer to His image.
And as my daughter reminds me, because I remind her, every day is
a new day.
New mercies are ours come the rise of a new dawn.
That’s true balm for a mothers heart and soul.
New mercies.
Sweet momma, girl, woman, daughter…God’s hemming us in to make us
more like Himself.
He’s trimming the yuck for holiness.
Reminding myself to cling to new mercies. New chances.
Our days are filled with them.
Thanks be to God!
