As the blanket of sparkling white snow tickled and covered our world this past week (and hopefully tonight), I found it melting into tears on my face.
It has been a hard week in the snowstorm of motherhood.
The first inch of snow to melt came from the heat of emotions when we learned the reality that we probably have one to two more weeks left with our furry pet, Mussoorie, who is somewhat infamous on this blog. (That was an unusually long sentence for me.)
The second snow instantly melted into many puddles all over our family room floor with the thud of a certain two year old. Our normally smiley boy took a disastrous fall that impacted his front teeth. His face has subsequently swollen twice its size, which warranted an emergency visit to the oral surgeon this morning.
Thankfully, God designed our bodies to self heal . . . and it appears that in children (and often in adults) the injured tooth will shimmy down in due time.
The blessing in this experience has been the unveiling of my little’s boy true personality. I know it is often said that the real person emerges in times of trial. Despite the horrid injury and pain that Gabe must be feeling, he has been delightful, loving, affectionate, patient . . . trusting.
And the third and fourth inch of snowmelt occurr(ed)(s) as I survey my surroundings, in reality my blessings and my greatest teachers.
For the first time I understand the skits portraying the frazzled moms at those frou-frou women’s conferences.
I understand now what my pastor’s wife meant when she claimed to only get in a sentence or two in of scripture each day during her child rearing years.
I have never struggled to do my quiet time in the 6 years of having children . . . until now.
I know the grey snow melt (and stench) of not changing my clothes for 48 hours. Being embarrassed to be clad in my pink pj’s as the Hottie walks through the door looking amazing in his work attire. (No picture available at this time.)
I have desired to climb out of my skin recently. Climb back into my mother’s womb or at least a tight ball in a dark room. I have struggled to accept the reality that I can’t “get things done.” (Yea, yea, yea, I know I blogged about accepting this whole reality but that is far easier said than done.)
I wonder is the decibel level in our house from six people . . . safe? Normal?
Almost daily I fear, question, research if I am severely damaging my children emotionally by how I parent – causing them to need Biblical counseling 20 years from now.
The vet commented to me that she thought I was a good parent. Really? I got mad at my kids in the waiting room. I knew what I was thinking in my heart with said granola children. Oh, if that kind veterinarian only knew. I do know that other parents get mad at their children . . . but still.
Am I REALLY teaching them how to have an authentic relationship with the Lord? Is my walk with my Savior contagious?
And then like the silence of a thick snow on a Sunday morning . . . I wonder . . . am I alone in this thing called motherhood? this thing called the insanity of four children . . . I mean seriously homeschooling all these fabulous minds?
What are we thinking? What were we thinking?
And you don’t even have to have four kids to feel the weight of such a task . . . a gift to bestow upon your kids. I felt this way with one, which I find quite humorous. I only thought I was busy then.
Just when I began to go to that dreary place that resembles the sky before a snowfall, I received an email from a dear friend. (I have changed her name to one of my favorite names {Trinity} to protect her heart.)
But I wonder . . . are there others of you out there who feel this way in your motherhood? Sometimes?
Here are the raw, poignant, and transparent words of my friend . . .
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!”Don't give up
God says so
Some days it's hard.
The end seems nowhere in sight
Cling to those words Trinity
I'm quiet but very stubborn and determined
I can accomplish a lot
I know
I've done it
But some times that question of why still creeps in
I do all the 'right' stuff
I follow all "the rules"
I do what I'm "supposed" to do
But some days I still think what's the point
I don't stand out.
I actually fall into the background
Don't lose heart Trinity
You will reap in due season
It's hard
I struggle
I don't have ' it' together
None. of. it.
Wife. mom. daughter. sister. homemaker.
Don't lose heart
Don't lose heart
I struggled with depression some this year
I'm already a 'homebody' but I turned in even more this year
I blog but I don't share even a peak of what's inside me
I don't know how
I don't know if I want to.
Ever.
Simplifying this year has been a real eye opener
I make thing so complicated
12 months if simplifying and I still have miles to go on this road
Don't lose heart Trinity
You. Are. So. Blessed.
So so so blessed
I gave up on publically sharing my 1000 gifts
I was so down for awhile I didn't want to even think about being
thankful. I knew ppl going through some very tough times, places I
wasn't even close to, and I hurt so bad for them and I didn't know how to be thankful for my perfect
little life. Without a trace of struggle, nothing like what they were in yet I was
so blue. And I was the one with the good life.
I am thankful.
For so much
I really do feel like I have my own little pocket of almost perfect.
So why do I have such trouble finding joy.
Can you relate to my friend, Trinity? Are you there? Have you been there? Has your snow been grey?
As I shovel through my postpartum thoughts I have been dwelling upon a verse from 1 Peter 5:10,
After you have suffered for a little while, the God of Grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you.
I thought living in India was hard. India prepared me for motherhood. Motherhood with baby #4 has taken me to a whole new level of introspection, change, and remolding.
This season of insanity with so many people dependent on me will pass. And not only will I have kids who are independent, but God will have transformed me when this winter of hibernation passes. I will grow along with my children’s heights. God will confirm, strengthen, and establish me.
Little ‘ol me. Little ‘ol you.
Yet the blizzard of events including the reality of my diminishing dog, a child significantly hurt, and the fear of how this all will affect my already tumultuous hormones. . . makes me think . . . ponder . . . pray.
God will this let up? I know it will. I have heard other moms speak who have reached the other side. They have kids who want to be with them. Their children love Jesus. These children can go to the bathroom by themselves. They can even do their own laundry. They drive! They even help others.
I wonder . . . can they make their mom a latte?
Don’t get me wrong . . . I don’t want to wish this time away . . . because there is growth in this season. I have a chance to be transformed even more through my “suffering” (if you can really call it that) to be like my Savior . . . and isn’t that what we want?
But like Trinity . . . I want joy through it all. Abiding joy. Transforming joy. Joy that uniquely falls upon every situation like the snowflakes out my door. Joy that brings delight at first site. Joy that is contagious. Joy that makes my children feel loved and my husband proud.
And so ends my reflections from what I am learning from mothering 4 children, grieving the end of an era in my life, and slowly working my way through Beth Moore’s study, Living Beyond Yourself. (I’m really making you want to do this study . . . right? NOT!)
Two questions for you . . . talk with me . . . my friend, Trinity IS reading this post. She knows that I was going to write it this week. She NEEDS you to reach out.
- Do Trinity’s thoughts echo yours?
- How do you sustain your joy in motherhood . . . in everything really? (And you can’t just say . . . spending time reading my Bible.)
I thank you in advance for dialoguing with us.
