At times as a mom I feel so discontent. It's weird. When I am going through my “mom funk” and everything is hard I try to remind myself that I'm being selfish and I need to look to God. And that is true. God should be the reason behind my everything, the fount of my purpose and the base that I rest my weary sleep deprived soul on.
But I get caught up in all the little things and forget about God. I let my toddler antagonize me. I can easily become lost in the despair of motherhood, overwhelmed by dirty dishes while loads of laundry tower upwards around me like insurmountable mountains. So much of motherhold is hard work and if I don't remember that this is the way I am glorifying God I falter and fall easily into the muddy mires of miserable housework.
But my “work” is the way I am worshiping God and fulfilling my biblical role as wife and mother. As a redeemed woman my goal should be to glorify God and live for His purpose. I know his purpose for me is to be a stay at home mom, raise kids and care for my husband and home. I was created for many purposes and my life belongs to God. My purpose for God has changed: before marriage and after marriage, before birthing children and now after having two. I have been stretched and challenged and I am sure if I continue to live I will continue to grow in God. But my vision is narrow and again and again I fight myself for an illusion of power, an illusion of control.
God is good, but it's my own sinful nature and willful pride that does not see God's goodness in washing dishes and wiping poopy bottoms, teaching A-B-Cs and introducing Jesus to my toddler. It is sin, plain and simple sin, that that makes me yearn for “my freedom” and feel that it is “my right” to have a break and something of my own. Nothing belongs to me. Everything belongs to God, including my time and my person. My outrage over “my dreams” and anything resembling personal freedom is taking for granted all the special gifts God has given me for this time. My children and husband are not 100 pound weights around my neck, but blessings upon blessings that I should clasp to my bosom with reverent thanks. Many times I get caught up in thinking them weights that drag me down, away from what I want and I need and I deserve. This is not the way God would have me view my life.
There is no easy path to following God. The gentle road might feel right and sound simple to our human ears, but our footsteps would echo with lies. And I don't want to drag my feet down the streets of motherhood and parenthood uttering cantankerous complaints and rolling my eyes with burdens untold. I want to have a pleasant soul full of the joy of Christ and eyes that look heavenward. I want to count my blessings, not my sorrows.
I know I don't desire to look back upon my life when I am elderly and gloat about how much “me” time I successfully squandered. I might think personal space and my hobbiees matter in the moment, but in the light of eternity they do not even register. We mothers are working for eternity and against hell itself, there is no time for idle leisure. Rest, yes. Rest is needed. Even Jesus rested. But idle meandering is worthless without God as a purpose.
I want to view motherhood and all the trials and joys that come with it as a blessing straight from the hands of God. Our time on the earth is short, and my time with my little ones is shorter still.
God's peace and joy is always there, even when my toddler is screaming, my husband is working late, dinner is burnt and I am exhausted. God is there, and I reap blessings untold even in my darkest days of Motherhood.