I see you there… tired, burnt out, beating yourself up and projecting your failures into the future, which inevitably lead to a drama series for teens on how messed up they are as a result of their parents.
I see you trying your hardest to juggle work and home, making the most of Carpe Diem and feeling like your body is the rag cleaning up the spilled mess all over the floor.
I see you wanting to make your meals from scratch, non-GMO, local, in-season, organic, free-range, pastured, refined sugar free, and then throw your hands up in the air when serving macaroni & cheese from a box.
I see you in public doing everything possible to keep your children well-behaved, in order to avoid “those looks” and to hope to win “mother of the year.”
Meanwhile, the door to your heart has been broken into and maimed… Seems beyond repair, as you retreat into a quiet corner at home… as you rock possible lunacy. You ignore the shouting from the other room. You have a full grown parental temper tantrum behind closed blinds.
To say you’re weary is an understatement. I know, I’m that mom.
I want others approval. For them to say, “well done mama! What wonderful children you have!” I want my children to reflect my ‘perfect’ image, and I want all of you to look to me as an idol of mamas. I want to live behind rose colored glasses, but not in a glass house for fear of you seeing the “real” me.
But, fellow mamas, we are not mothers to children, in order that we would be an idol to them (or to others); but, to be made holy and righteous in the Good Father’s eyes. It is through our failures, through our tenth mistake within the hour, where we come to the cross and lay down ourselves. We offer up our imperfect mothering, in order to allow the blood of Jesus to fill in the crevices & cracks of sin we have handed to our children.
We do this, so that they may see Jesus, and not us in the end of their race on Earth. That it is by our faults, we can say, “Oh no, it’s not by my perfection, my cooking, my playing, my great ideas–it’s through my inconsistencies and my harsh words that I may see the grace of God and steer my children there.”
Sweet mothers, your children, young or old, desperately need you. Your imperfect, broken self, because God did not make a mistake by giving you the children you held in your womb to your arms to them leaving the nest. He wants and needs to use you, as you are, to shepherd these little ones.
Do you believe this about yourself?
Would you join with me? Find two large rocks. Large enough to write down 3-5 words on how you want others to see you, or maybe how you see yourself in a negative light. Take that black sharpie and write those lies on them. Now, take that rock to a lake, ocean, or river. Read those words aloud to Jesus, and declare that they are lies. Chuck it into the water as a cleansing.
Now, take that other rock and sit with Jesus. Ask him, “Who do you say that I am?” Write those 3-5 words on that rock. Place that rock on your dresser, or mantle, to remind you who Jesus says you are. Stand firm and solid in that truth, because it is that truth that shatters the glass house in which we try to live in.
…dear mamas (myself included), we are daughters of the Most High God who are to reflect his sweet glory to our children. We point to Him who does not fail, and lead our children into the throne room of his grace.