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.
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!