All in Mommyhood
My sweet sister in Christ, if we can’t be vulnerable with our Creator, then we never have the chance for redemption. And His story of redemption is better than any best selling book. Postpartum depression was not my fault, and that was a lie God helped me wrestle through. But my reaction to it, my heart’s stance was something I had to own. Allowing my life to be run by the overwhelming emotion of being upset with God for making me this way, was a sin I had to confess.
Grace took over and His lavishing love saved me. In the final weeks of my pregnancy, God placed these verses on my heart, unaware that they would become my heart song during this journey.
Shredded cheese was flying all over my kitchen. My girls were throwing it around like confetti, and the dogs were receiving it like manna from heaven. Squeals of pure delight were echoing loudly off the walls. They had managed to turn pizza making night into a full blown party. As I took the scene in, I realized the only one not enjoying this unplanned festivity was me, mommy the party pooper.
Eyes fixated to the skies, fingers lifted pointing in unison, voices raised echoing with genuine delight. My daughters’ had discovered the moon was visible in the daylight sky. Reflected in their eyes was a simple, yet profound sense of wonder. The moon, something we often overlook. Something we take for granted that disappears and reappears daily. It’s commonplace to us, but to our children, it is new, awe-filled, and something they want to know more about.
Alexa has been a source of dance party delight in our home, but sometimes she gets the wrath of a frustrated misunderstood toddler. It still shocks me that my children will grow up with this strange artificial intelligence device, among many others, as a daily part of their lives. But for me she is a beacon of hope, my solution. Witching hour woes are quickly solved by a wiggle of the hips and a mouth full of worship, and all the mommas said thank you Alexa!
We all have them. Days filled with grumpies , from daybreak to nightfall. Eyes open and attitudes begin. If I’m being honest, it’s usually my heart of sin that is setting the tone for the day. It’s the days where every hour is met with another opposition. One bad thing snowballs into a no, good very bad day. Let me tell you the story of the epic Mardel meltdown of Christmas 2018.
Bad days as a mom stick out like a negative Yelp review. You could have 100 raving reviews, but that singular bad one has a powerful sting. I can vividly remember some of my worst days as a mom, the ones filled with yelling, tears, and darkness. If I let myself, I can start to erase the good memories by allowing the lousy ones linger in my mind a little too long. Before I let that bitterness start to taint my view of motherhood, I am reminded of a song. “Open up my eyes in wonder and show me who You are.” When the weight of motherhood is too much, I want to be awakened to the wonder of it, because I know that it is there where God is revealing who He is to us in an intimate way.
God works in funny ways. Sometimes it’s a laugh out loud type of humor, other times its a gentle turning upwards of my lips to form a smirk acknowledging the, I see what You did there moment. Last Friday was MOPS day. For those of you who don’t know about Mothers of Preschoolers, click the link as fast as you can and find a MOPS to join! It has been one of the best decisions I’ve made to cultivate life-giving fellowship with other women in this season of little ones.
Fortunately, I haven’t been victim of this...yet, but many friends have the horror stories of their toddlers getting into things they shouldn’t; an entire soap bottle, a dirty diaper, permanent markers, jars of peanut butter, or mommas makeup to name a few. The things they know they shouldn’t be playing with, yet it’s so enticing to those little minds. Once they get a small taste of it, the moment of fun becomes intoxicating, so much that they can’t seem to stop. Then momma, the grim reaper of fun, comes in and brings an end to the disastrous amusement. Their cute faces are laden with guilt, but the discipline is sure to come next.