As a young mom, I felt great love for my children….
but I don’t remember feeling strong. I remember feeling inadequate, responsible, happy, unsure, committed, protective, overwhelmed, empathetic, exhausted, proud, hopeful, teachable and enthusiastic…but I didn’t feel strong. At least, not very often.
More often, I felt like I was functioning from a platform of weakness.
This morning, I took a quick peek in my old journals that I wrote when I had young children and here are some sentences that I wrote about being a mom. (Keep in mind that back then, I tended to journal more when I was struggling than when life was running smoothly.)
I truly can’t believe that the hospital actually let me take this baby home. Do they really think I’m responsible enough?
Everyday, I’m reminded of how much I don’t know.
When Dawne was born, someone gave me a card that said, “Congratulations on having your first baby..” and when I opened the card, it continued with, ” Life as you once knew it is now over.” A very wise woman must have penned that saying. Is there life beyond mothering? Will I ever be able to converse with an adult again?
I’m beginning to wonder if I will ever surface.
I can’t tell if parenting is killing me or making me stronger.
I’m so tired this morning that I’m thinking of locking all three kids and I in this bedroom and mothering from my bed.
Being a mommy is providing some of the best moments of my life.
Young motherhood was relentless. With its constant onslaught of demands, expectations, exhaustion and joy, it was the most blessed and discouraging job on earth…and yesterday, it all came back to me. I spent the morning with a group of young moms.
My friend had asked me to come and speak to this amazing group of women who are up to their elbows in diapers, laundry, battery operated toys and macaroni and cheese. As I watched them come into the room and settle into their chairs, I could see both the fatigue of being moms and the relief of coming together, without their children for this short time, and relaxing.
Perhaps it might have been better if they could all have taken an hour long nap.
But no…they all stayed awake and were so gracious as I shared from my heart and did my best to encourage them to “hold unswervingly to the hope they professed for He who promised is faithful. “ (Hebrews 10.23)
I think many of these beautiful women felt weak, vulnerable and unsure…and I’m so thankful that they have each other for support.
They need each other’s ears.
They need each other’s stories.
They need each other’s prayers.
…and they need God’s grace each and every day.
Thank you Vicky…for gifting me with the opportunity to meet this group of precious women. I was blessed…and I want to remind each woman I met, that she is loved by her heavenly Father, who loves her children even more than she does.
Tish, Lisa, Evelyn, Irma, Danielle, Wendy, Vicky, Faye, Amanda, Janis, Lindsay, Tavi and Tavi’s friend…thought you’d like this poem.
It’s not only children who grow. Parents do too. As much as we watch to see what our children do with their lives, they are watching us to see what we do with ours. Joyce Maynard