He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young
. {Isaiah 40:11}

14 July 2010

Words I Desperately Needed to Hear

Two kids under two years has dulled my Type-A personality a little, on the surface at least. However, with a shallow search, my desire for perfection is lurking underneath and rears it's ugly head far too often. I have recently found that my selfish desire to have everything just the way I like it has affected my mood like a dark cloud overhead and it requires far more effort to stay cool than it should. To top off the silly frustrations like crumbs on the kitchen floor {remnant from the blessing of never having to worry about where our food is coming from} and loads of unfolded laundry {more clothes than many people own}, my sweet CJ decided it was time to potty train. A full morning of pure success lead to an early afternoon of wet undies and my patience didn't just tip-toe out the back door... it bolted into the wall a few times before crashing though the window.
I woke up in the middle of the night last night unsettled about my attitude. I am a wretched sinner. I am caught up in my own desires more than the needs of others. I grumble about the crumbs when I should be thankful for the banquet that left them. I have been wondering if this was something worth sharing... why expose my sins?... then this...
I did a search for an all-natural mommy's perspective on potty training {the first search I have done of this type} and stumbled onto a blog aptly named "The Natural Mommy". Ha! I liked what I read so I skimmed her site and this caught my eye. I couldn't have said it better.

I don’t know exactly when my life changed.

I don’t know when I lost control.

When the stress started mounting.

When I started yelling more.

Loving less.

I woke up one morning and didn’t like my life anymore.

The children were fighting, screaming, crying, clinging, smothering. I couldn’t demand obedience. Not even if I screamed. Which I did. A lot.

I would plead with God for patience. To be filled with His Spirit. To be a better mom. I begged. I tried. I failed. I tried harder. I failed harder.

I stopped asking.

I knew I should be reading my bible, but told myself God understood that I was busy. That I never had a moment to myself. So I didn’t have time for Him.

My heart grew colder.

The first prayer I prayed, I almost didn’t.

It was two days before Levi’s birthday - the day before his party - and his present hadn’t come yet. Josh thought it could still make it, but I had given up. And you know something’s wrong with life with Josh is the optimist of our relationship.

“Maybe we should pray for it” slipped from my mouth before it was even fully thought and I was immediately embarrassed. As if God would answer such a pitiful prayer. A meaningless request.

And yet, somehow, the thought was strengthened within me. And I prayed.

And He answered. It came.

For the first time in months, He had my attention.

That night, I hit my knees on our living room floor and begged His forgiveness for my absence. My pride. My anger. My failure as a child of God and a mother to my children.

The day after Levi’s party, on his birthday, we went to church. He wooed me fiercely with songs of a Love no sin could diminish.

The realization that it was Father’s Day brought a flood of tears as God planted the knowledge in my head that He had never left me. I had turned my back on Him. Unlike my earthly father, He was always there, waiting for me to open my eyes to see, my ears to hear.

I resolved to try harder.

And failed spectacularly.

But He remained with me, waiting for my eyes, my ears, to find him.

This morning, alone in a car, I cried out to him. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t be the mother I wanted to be. Why wasn’t He helping me? Why couldn’t I do this?

I found myself in Romans less than an hour later.

He found me in Romans.

I found Him in Romans.

We met in Romans.

And He explained to me the concept of Faith. Not works. Faith. Not trying. Trusting. If I am a perfect mother in my own power, how does that glorify Him?

I need to let go.

I am letting go.

Let go with me.

Say it with me.

I am letting go of the heavy burden of perfect motherhood and letting the faith that Christ will fulfill his purpose in me wash over me.


1 comment:

  1. Ok it felt as though you were talking straight to me. I will be the first to admit that I can cry over almost anything, and this post def brought tears to my eyes. As a mom who doesn't know everything or have everything together, I still feel I can relate to this post. I think there's something about Romans. I read chap 10 on Tues and felt broken. I think God test us all in different ways and patience is def something I daily have to work on. We are all sinners and fall short...but He is good. He's loving and just. He's my provider and protector. He will never leave me nor foresake me. I find rest in His love for me and pray I can have that love for my girls. When I get to an unpleasant place I usually turn my 'Christian' music up and cry out. Surprisingly my girls are usually at their best in this moment. I also look to Ps. 145:8. thank you for this post.


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