I didn’t know it would change me.
The moment they looked into my eyes I knew I was never going to be the same. I was now a mother. Every move I made—for the rest of my life—was no longer going to just effect me. I had a purpose much greater than any I had ever had before.
I felt so capable, knowing that you had put so much trust in me. I felt strong and courageous and ever so willing. I just knew I was going to do it perfectly. So I set off on what I thought would be a perfect journey . . . of motherhood.
Then life got in the way. At first I just pretended I couldn’t see the moments I would fall short—I thought if I ignored them they would disappear. I believed if I didn’t acknowledge that I was sometimes failing—at things I thought would come so easy—I would be able to overcome them. So I continued to chart my perfect course.
Yet, every day since I am reminded of just how insignificant I am, usually only in my mind. The house is never—always—clean. The food sometimes burns. Some days we are lucky if there is food prepared at dinner time. The weeds take over the garden. The watermelon falls out the back of the car and bursts all over the driveway. But worst of all . . . many times I fail at the one thing I thought I could do perfectly—motherhood.
Sometimes I wonder why you chose me. Flawed. Emotional. Imperfect.
I look in the mirror and can easily see every disappointment I have ever been. Yet each day, I end the night with a prayer that tomorrow I can be better—more patient and loving . . . more perfect. Then morning comes and—as I pry myself out of bed—I am reminded of all the things that I am not.
The list of to dos is longer than the hours I have in the day. The pile of laundry multiplies over night. Everyone needs me for something. Appointments. Assignments. Ballet classes. Soccer practice. Basketball games. Report we forgot to do is due tomorrow. Homework still needs to be done. Date night has been pushed aside for a month. When was the last time I washed my hair? I forgot to put the clothes in the dryer . . . two days ago.
Some nights we pour a bowl of cereal for dinner—as I remember all the pictures of friend’s perfect dinners I saw posted on Facebook—I wonder why it seems everyone has everything all together but me.
Sometimes I yell . . . over stupid stuff. Little insignificant annoyances that just don’t seem to let up. Kids fighting, or sassing, or messing up my plan.
Sometimes I wonder . . . if I had known how hard it was going to be—would I do it all over again?
And then I stop in my tracks, because that is THE one thing I know for sure. Even though I am flawed, and imperfect and some days a disaster of a mess—I was born to be a mom. And that is my truth.
So today I guess I just want to say thank you for believing in me, even though I am broken. Thank you for loving me even when I mess up. For patiently reminding me to love, even when I have nothing left. For giving me wisdom—in just the perfect moment— to find a reason to be better.
Thank you for sending me answers I could not find on my own. For giving me strength to stand just when I think I have nothing left.
I feel you all around me, when I take the time to listen. I see that grace is the power that pulls me through, when the nights get long and the days get hard.
So though, today I might forget. I truly want to be patient. I want to be loving and fun. I want to be creative, organized, and have it all together. Heck I even want to make some of those amazing dinners I only see in pictures.
But—if we are going to be honest—You know that I am not going to measure up in all of these things every single day. So my prayer today is that I don’t forget the things that are the most important. Help me remember to see this family how You see them . . . but even more, help me to see me . . . just as you created me to be.
Help me to be who I am supposed to be so I can be there for my babies in the ways they need, so they—my children—will remember that they were Your children first.
Help me remember today—as I fail at many things—that I am right where I belong.
Today as I send my babies out into the world—send them angels to protect them. Help them to make a difference wherever they may be. Help them to see those who need help, and need a friend. Help them to remember all that I have tried to show them. Please bless me this day with wisdom—to know where to spend my time. Please give me strength this day to let go of the expectations of what I think I should be. Please help me to see the bigger picture—that I may be the instrument to help them feel of Your love.
If I am to lose my way today, please send me reminders of the truths that I am forgetting. I know I have an enemy who wants me to dwell on all the things I am not—please help me to be strong as I battle through and live my truths.
Because the truth is—I am a perfect mess but—I am the woman you chose to be the mother of this home. So if we were meant to have it all together—then I guess we already would.
Give me courage to let go of the insecurities that only hold me back, and strength to remember the truths that will help me become—not as I think I should be—but as You created me to be.
My random thoughts tonight about how insecurities suck . . . and why I fight.
Mothers Day is just around the corner . . . please remember to encourage the mothers you know who are making a difference in all the right ways . . . especially you!