*I wrote this for my church’s Women’s Ministry Blog last month, so you may have already read this. I am mainly posting it here to keep all of my blogs together for myself. These are kind of like my journal entries, which I enjoy reading after time has passed by – to be reminded of what I was feeling, thinking, and struggling with at that certain season of life. It can be encouraging, discouraging, and/or both. It is certain to always be a reminder of God’s provision and continued faithfulness in my life.
I write best when I’m broken, so today is a good day to write.
To the women who deeply desire to have children and can’t, for various reasons – I acknowledge you.
To the women who have lost a child or a mom – I acknowledge you.
To the women whose relationship with your mom has never been what you desired it to be – I acknowledge you.
I acknowledge that Mother’s Day is, for many, the opposite of flowers, breakfast in bed and warm sloppy kisses. It’s a reminder of a life lost or one never brought into existence. I am SO SORRY that life is so unfair. My hope is to share from my heart and in doing so, not offend or be insensitive to others with different circumstances surrounding this day.
I’ve only been a mom for five years so I definitely still feel like I do not know what I’m doing much of the time! I wonder if part of God’s thought behind motherhood (or parenthood for that matter) is to create a sure way to keep us on our knees and humbled daily. It is possible for pride to have its way in us as parents – FOR SURE – but it never stays long. At least not at my house.
“Motherhood has rumbled over us like a freight train, rendering us in some moments out of control and humbled, positions we’re not accustomed to. We’re get-it-done women. We’ve handled everything, all the time, all at the same time. We’ve made lists and plans and back-up plans. And motherhood laughed at our plans, twisted up our expectations, and gave them back to us upside down covered with blood and stretch marks and goldfish cracker paste,” (Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p.151).
Today, I feel rumbled over.
Yesterday was Thursday = date night with my ‘lil man! Most Thursday nights Ranon and I head over to Farmer’s Market in downtown SLO after I pick him up from school. We park in the same place: on the top level of the parking structure on Chorro so that we can ride down in the “glass elevator.” We eat at either The Habit or Pluto’s, then we make our way up and down Higuera and stop to dance, jump in the bounce house, buy fruit and veggies or give a homeless person something (one night Ranon really wanted to give them each a stick of gum, so fresh breath it was! J )
I dropped Ranon off at school, gave him a kiss goodbye and said, “Love you bud. Can’t wait for our date tonight!”
“Me too!” he replied.
When I arrived at school later that day to pick him up, his teacher had Ranon tell me about the “kind of afternoon we had today,” which consisted of Ranon disobeying and disrespecting his teachers and ended up in “Miss Patty’s office” (code for Principal’s office).
I had Ranon apologize to his teacher for disobeying and being disrespectful and I thanked her for letting me know about this. Then I prayed from his classroom out to the car, “Lord, PLEASE give me wisdom and show me how to handle this!” One thing I knew for sure was that we would not be going on our date. I had the car ride home to figure out what would be next.
After Ranon was buckled in his booster and I got in my seat, I turned around and said, “Ranon, I love you very much but I am very disappointed by the choices you made today. Part of the consequence for your disobedience is that we can’t go on our date tonight. This makes me so sad because I have been looking forward to it all day!”
I was expecting tears and sadness and instead I was met with a stern face that was fighting back tears and he said, “I didn’t want to go anyway.”
Ouch! Hmmm. Wasn’t expecting that! Now what?
I prayed the whole way home and told him to sit on his bed until dinner was ready while I figured out what the rest of his consequence would be. I felt like motherhood pelted me in the face with a ball of its goldfish cracker paste and yelled, “Take that, you ‘ol ninny!” My heart has been heavy and I am constantly wrestling with fear and surrender. I’m afraid that this could be the first of many reports I am to receive from Ranon’s teachers for the next several years. I’m afraid that this little life that is full of GOOD and strength will choose foolishness more than wisdom. Satan ceases the opportunity to attack my mind while I’m weak and I work myself into so many knots I don’t know how to untangle!
Since Shauna says everything better, again I will quote something she wrote in Bittersweet, “Logic says mothers are crazy to hope as heedlessly as we do, to love as rabidly as we do, to care as recklessly as we do, to yearn as acutely as we do, but there’s no other way. We have been made vulnerable by motherhood as we have by nothing else in our lives.”
I’m vulnerable. I’m humbled. I’m discouraged and afraid!
Morning comes and as I see a mop of blonde hair in the shadows, I pull back the covers to invite him in. I tuck him under my arm and snuggle up close. His toes wiggle against my leg and I soak up the peace and stillness for the SECOND that it lasts. It’s a new day and I am reminded how insanely honored I am to be a mom.