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.
