As I reflect on the privilege and honor of being a mom, many thoughts and emotions race in my mind and well up in my heart. Chief among them: There is no such thing as a perfect mom, so motherhood comes with lots of questioning, second guessing, guilt, and feelings of failure.
When we are honest, I don't think many moms are proud of all they have said and done as moms. It is a humbling vocation. Even as I try to focus on all that has gone well in our family, it is only God's grace, strength, and mercy I see shining through. I know that I can take no credit.
Last night my husband and I had a refreshing date night of dinner and a movie, "Moms' Night Out." It was timely, funny, and poignant, and it had a message I needed to remember: Motherhood is crazy hard, and God didn't make a mistake when He entrusted my children to me as their mom. I identified deeply with the main character, who expressed that she felt like she just wasn't "enough." The word "enough" was the first to pop in my when she said, "I'm just not ..." and then paused. She could have said she wasn't happy, wasn't capable, wasn't qualified, wasn't fulfilled, but the script writers chose a word I'm sure many moms echo: "enough." I'm not enough.
From that first pregnancy that ended in miscarriage to this time 9 years later when I am raising and homeschooling three boys aged 8, almost 6, and 4, I have often felt I was at the end of my rope, the end of my capabilities, the end of my understanding. I treasure labor and birth as some of the sweetest times I've ever experienced in the presence of God. Worship was music playing, my strength and energy were drained, and nothing was left on my lips but the precious name, "Jesus!" that I called out over and over. The elation and wonder that followed, the indescribable highs and lows over the emotionally exhilarating but physically excruciating and exhausting days that followed, and the many decisions I had to make alongside my husband are a bit of a blur now. A mommy was born, and as I have been raising and nurturing and disciplining my children these past 8 years, I have often found myself in need of more nurturing and discipline from my Father God than I ever had as a daydreaming child, confused teenager, or headstrong young woman.
In addition to my own motherhood journey, today my thoughts are consumed with the mothers in my life who have influenced, encouraged, and inspired me. I am so thankful for the women who have loved me and poured out some of their wisdom and guidance to help me on this road. Many of them did so long before I was a mother, and I reflect back on their examples as my eyes are continually opened to aspects of their lives I never understood before I became a mom, too.
Most of all, I am thankful for my own mom. With that in mind, I want to tell her some of the things for which I am so grateful. I could list many, many reasons I appreciate her, but what stands out to me today is her belief in me.
Thank you, Mom, for listening to my silly stories and crazy dreams and believing some of them could come true. When I wanted to be writer, you believed. When I wanted to be a missionary, you believed. When I was in love with some boy you knew wouldn't be best for me or wouldn't love me back, you gently encouraged and fervently prayed and kept believing God would keep me within His will for my life. You never believed I could do no wrong; you knew better -- you knew my nature was the same as yours -- and you believed I could learn from your wisdom without having to know the details of your mistakes. When I broke the rules, you believed you needed to tell me exactly what the consequences would be and that I would be better for enduring them. When I had a fight with a friend, you believed I would work it out and learn the valuable life lessons to be gained. When I was wronged, you believed I could forgive and heal. When I wronged others, you believed I could do better and made sure I made it right. When I wanted to be a wife and mother, you believed I would be a wonderful one but cautioned me that it would not be easy. When I wanted to earn enough money to stay home with my babies, you believed in me and spent too much money to support my business. When I became disillusioned with my business and life, you believed I could learn from my experiences and go on to find what God had for me next. When I decided to home-school my children, you believed in me. When I was scared to venture into another business, you believed I could do it. When I've been mad at my husband, upset with myself, frustrated with my children, you've never stopped believing. You still believe we will be in Tanzania one day; you see the bigger picture that sometimes I can't see in the day-to-day life I live. For this and so much more, thank you, Mom. Are there many gifts a mom can give that are better than the gift of belief? You instilled in me deep belief, too, and your example of faith inspires me every day.
My Facebook status this morning was actually too long to be a status, and writing it made me realize I needed to blog today. I don't write as often as I would like, partly because I always believe I have something more important to do. Perhaps I will turn over a new leaf this Mothers' Day and decide to do those things that fulfill me deeply more often. I will play my flute more often. I will write. Those are the best places to start. Maybe not every day, and sometimes maybe not even every week, but I am giving myself that Mother's Day gift today: a commitment to use those gifts that God gave me, not necessarily to touch or bless the world as I once thought I would but because He knew that through them I would touch Him and therefore strengthen myself for the tasks at hand.
As it seems most appropriate, I will close this post with that Facebook status:
Happy Mother's Day to Carla, who was my Lovey, became my mom by God's grace and will, and by her words and example led me to follow Jesus, fear the consequences of bad choices, respect others, serve wholeheartedly, pray fervently, and listen well (I'm still working on that one). Happy Mother's Day to Chris, who chose life for me, walked the painful path of letting me go because it was best for me, and sacrificed to send gifts, visit, and be a part of my life no matter what. Happy Mother's Day to Cheryl, who raised a strong, smart, handsome, adventurous young man who couldn't wait to leave home to serve his country but took with him the love, care, and godly values she had instilled. She made many sacrifices to ensure her children had everything they needed and couldn't have done it without the Lord and her own father and mother, Dolores, and I am thankful to all of them for the man I am honored to call my husband. I can't forget the roles my granny, LaDene, grandma "Morrisy," and Nana played in shaping lives and helping pave the way for me to have the childhood I did and life I'm so thankful for. God orchestrated every detail, and I couldn't be more humbled and grateful to be the mommy of three sweet, loving little boys who fuel me to get out of bed in the morning, be the best mom I can be, and lean harder than ever on Jesus, who gives me strength and wisdom for this sacred calling that I'm constantly afraid I'm going to blow big time. Motherhood has been a wild journey so far -- one that has changed me, shaped and molded me, frightened me, thrilled and overjoyed me, exhausted me, aged me, and brought me closer to the heart of my Father God. Those three boys are the crowning jewels of my existence, and I thank God for them every day. Thank you to my mom, mother-in-law, and their moms for showing me the way and encouraging me so much.