Tuesday, May 6, 2014

To my kiddos on Mother's Day,


Nothing could've ever prepared me for the complexities of motherhood. No class, no heart-to-heart, no blog, no workshop, no book. As much as the words of others who had walked the path before me might have encouraged me (maybe, really, more like frightened me...)  they could not fully prepare my soul for the beautiful, challenging, messy time that awaited.

You think that Mama knows it all...that I am so very old...so much older than you. Can I tell you a secret, kids?

Truth is, Mama is really just a kid herself. I am relatively new to this whole motherhood gig. 9 years ago my first babe was still tucked away inside my womb, cozy and safe from the world. My tummy was her whole world. But that was only 9 years ago...I haven't been a Mama very long.

I know you kids think I have all the answers...I guess in some respects I do. I am the one, after all, who answers every. single. question. All day, every day.

But really, I'm learning as I go.


Newsflash: I have never been a Mom before. I didn't get a four year degree in motherhood and fulfill an apprenticeship before the first of you was placed into my waiting arms. There was no practice, no rehearsal, no training to prepare for what I now spend my every day doing. That's hard for you to even imagine though, at 8, 5, 3 & 1. I am all you know of motherhood.

I adore being your Mama. It is by far the absolute hardest task I have ever been entrusted with, by goodness...it is worth it. There is no greater joy than the exhausting work of loving your little lives up in The Lord. The daily feeding of your bellies and your souls is so daunting...but so incredibly beautiful.

I am learning moment by moment that a life laid down most closely resembles My Savior. So I lay mine down again and again...and fight for joy in the midst of the selflessness He asks of me.






When the four of you are grown, and sit around talking about your childhood..sharing stories, laughing and perhaps shedding a tear for the hurts...I pray that you give me grace. I hope you can see the woman who was trying to raise y'all to love The Lord, to love others...I hope you know I tried my very best. You will know better than any other people on this earth (besides your Dad) that I am a far cry from a perfect person. I get angry, I get ugly, I loose my patience, I get frustrated, I say rude things, I am a flawed woman...fighting minute by minute to choose joy in the chaos and selflessness in my self-centered desires.

 I pray that you can see me for the woman that is beneath the title of Mama...that you might love and respect even, the way I have loved you.

While I'm not perfect, hopefully you can see Jesus in me. He is my strength, He is my hope. He continually draws me back to Him...softens my easily hardened heart...helps me grow into the Mama y'all need me to be. I hope you will see, through my mistakes, through my missteps, that if Jesus loves your Mama with an unrelenting love, He surely loves you just the same.



I am trying, at the nudging and reminding of The Spirit to be an intentional Mama. To peer into the future and consider the lovely, strong, intelligent, compassionate, selfless adults y'all are going to become. As I picture these grown ups I have yet to meet, yet already know, I think about how my daily interactions are forming or destroying who you each are called to be.

I tell your Dad frequently, "Isn't it so cool that we are raising our future best friends?! I mean, it's kinda crazy, right?"

It is crazy. It is cool. I pray that it becomes reality.

By God's goodness I won't botch the whole thing.

I trust that He will fill in the gaps your Dad and I will undoubtedly leave.

I love you four more than any words could do justice. You are my greatest work, my greatest gifts. I am incredibly grateful to be your Mama, and I thank you for loving me.

Please be patient with me, I will be patient with you (it's your first time to do the kid-growing-up-thing too, after all)...as we continue to grow up together, day by day. Thankful to be journeying with you.

love,
Mama