Ah, Motherhood, you crazy, lovely, maddening, heart-wrenching BEAST!!
My motherhood journey started nearly 12 years ago and I had no idea what I was getting myself in to! Seriously. No. Idea. No younger siblings, I had barely babysat, wasn't even trying to get pregnant. So, the thought, "I'm not sure I was ready for this," passed through my mind more than once.
But man! The highest highs! ....... And the lowest lows...
Let's try that again...the HIGHEST HIGHS!!!!!!!!🥰🥰🤱🥰🥰
And the LOOOOOOWWEST looows...... 🌪😡🔥🤦♀️😭😴😴😴
I often asked myself in the depths of my heart, "why did God make this so freaking hard!?!?!" Okay, if we're being honest about the depths of my heart here it would actually be "why did God make this so fuh-king hard????"
At the peak of it, I had 3 boys 5 and under. I was so profoundly tired. So at the end of my rope. Not wanting the day to start. Desperate to get them to bed in the evening so I could maybe have a few measly moments to myself (sorry, hubs, I'm all touched out for the day, good luck!). But even when I got moments to myself, it was never enough. The noise. The mess. The constant movement. It was ridiculously overwhelming. And I did not handle it like I thought I would. Like I thought I should. I wasn't able to tap in to some inner "zen" and float through the chaos unprovoked.
😠 I. got. provoked.
I'd yell at my kids for dumb stuff. I'd scold them with a voice just dripping with disdain. And I could hear it. I could hear what I was doing and I hated it. "So not like Jesus, you fool!" I'd say in my head (which is also not like Jesus).
And then I'd wallow in guilt for a couple days.
I maybe nudged up against clinical depression a few times.
It took me 10 years to connect all the dots between my faith, my failures and motherhood, to reconcile the difficulty of that season with a good God who is working everything out for the good of those who love him. I learned to not be so surprised when I sin. I learned that no matter how ugly my sin gets, He will take my filthy rags and give me his own righteousness to wear instead. I learned what to do with those devastating moments. How to transform the mundane misery of discovering over and over again that I am a "bad mom," into a happy, dance party of relief. 💃🥳 And then how to share that with my darling children.
What would I have given to have had someone early on take me by the hand and walk me through part of that season and make sure I was equipped and trained to walk through the rest of it with all the tools I would need to make the most of it? How would that have transformed those next several years?
Perhaps they'd look more like the years just ahead of me that I'm looking forward to now, in which I feel...ready, excited. I know I will struggle and fail and totally blow it. I always will. But I know exactly what to do with that. Repent, and then have a little dance party. Because my sin is gone. gone. gone. And that is the BEST good news ever.
Does my motherhood experience resonate with you?
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