“What makes you a mommy?” she asked in such an innocent, inqisitive voice. My heart snapped to attention as I realized the depth of her question. I gently pointed my finger to her chest and as our eyes met through the mirror I answered, you make me a mommy.
I explain for some, motherhood begins when a baby forms in their tummy, for others like me it begins with a choice… to step into something extraordinary. Sometimes it starts with baby steps, sometimes it’s a deep dive into unknown waters. For some it’s a dream come true. For others it is unexpected in many ways. And yet for some it may be a desire held unmet.
I can’t help but be reflective this week. The Facebook memories remind me of the day four years ago that made me a mother. When my girls ask me where babies come from, I laughingly tell them mine came from a white van 🙂 They jumped out full of giggles and joy, calling me Miss Abby before I could even take in their beauty. They ran around the house exploring every little detail and tried to pull Tini through her doggy gate. I wonder if they could see the fear in my eyes… or even noticed that I hadn’t taken a breath since the van door opened.
I remember telling Daniel one time, if God wants me to have children then he’ll have to make it happen. Just to be clear, that wasn’t a statement of faith. I’m certain I spoke the challenge into being. ::God sits on his throne. Challenge Accepted::
As I sat Sunday night and reflected on all the ups and downs that these years have held I can’t help but laugh at the adventure…
I have this one child who absolutely knows there is a video monitor in her room… yet she continues to do flips in her bed – a nightly routine that screams, watch me one more time. Consequences mean nothing to her. She laughs in the face of pain. There is nothing she can’t do. When people meet our gang, they are always quick to point out that little one. I bet she keeps you busy. Mark my words, she will run the world one day.
Those twins, they started first grade and might as well have started high-school. How old do we have to be to have a cellphone? When can I have a boyfriend? Can I wear lipstick? Despite their love of all things sparkly, they don’t think twice about catching a lizard or chasing a frog.
They’ve started asking deeper questions, about beliefs and baptism and why some people believe in a different god… because obviously there’s only one God and his name is Jesus and his last name is God 🙂
They call me out on my own sin… when my attitude is poor or my words are harsh – or if something slips out that falls short of holy – they make sure I hear it again in the most awkward of places. I have my own little accountability group.
They are quick to tell their teachers that all I drink is wine, while daddy just drinks diet coke. We have no secrets – but many lies – such as my mommy is having a baby – most definitely not true. It’s hard to know if we’re right side up or upside down but these girls keep the adventure going every day.
Then we have some hard days in between the glory. New school year, new faces, new schedules to grasp and friends to meet. These things can send our happy little home into a pain-filled spiral. On any given day you will find one of us in tears – most recently I am one.
And as I feel the weight of the pain, the overwhelming question if I have what it takes to raise these girls, I pause to read someone else’s story. She says hug them tightly, time moves so fast. She will be taking her baby girl to college next week and can’t believe that she was an infant just last week.
Her admonition to squeeze every bit of life out of this season doesn’t fall on deaf ears – but how in the world am I supposed to enjoy the days that pierce my heart? Some days I just want to believe that we will make it to college! I promise I won’t cry. Ha! I will cry.
I’m sure I’ll cry, just like I always do – crying either happy tears or tears that question if I did enough. Did I love enough, did we laugh enough, did I hug enough? What will she remember when she looks back on these years? What will the next years hold? Please tell me we all survive.
I read a blog recently about surrender that rocked me to my core. It was as if I could have written it myself. It helped me to see these crazy questions in my head aren’t limited to just me. She reminded me that “surrendered living is much more than ‘doing less’. It’s being more of who God created us to be… and sometimes surrendering to God will require you to do the hardest work you’ve ever done in your life.”
I finally breathe a sigh of relief. It’s ok for this to be hard.
On the far edge of 35, I’ve come to realize a few things about myself, some of which are not easy to face. For instance, I’m not a big fan of grace. Well, let me explain. I love grace. But I don’t like to need grace. Nothing has more clearly revealed my need for grace than parenting. It’s almost as if God thought this would be the perfect recipe to bring me face to face with my humanity. {Not that I was perfect before or anything.}
I laughed out loud this morning as I considered my deep need for control. Seriously, you could sell me ANYTHING if the word control is in the name. Birth control – check. Weight control – check,check. Tummy control – where do I sign up?!? I love the illusion of control. This isn’t new. I just laugh whenever I see how deeply I crave it.
With her comforting words, blogger Jennifer reminds me: On this journey toward surrender, you’ll discover that, at last, it really is all under control: God’s.
As I prepare to teach next week a session on “the fellowship” I have come to see that the thing that keeps me going – even in the face of the hard days – when I have no sense of control, is knowing I am not alone. The wise words of the ones that have walked ahead of me, looking back and sharing their stories of survival, these mean the world to me. And the friendships I have with those who walk beside me, cheering each other on in this road of womanhood, these make me believe we can conquer the world. – or at the very least survive it. The lovelies that walk a few steps behind, a little bit wobbly or maybe even confident of their purpose, these ones remind me of where I’ve been. The men that speak encouragement, hope and love into our lives – you give us strength to carry on.
Here’s to each one of you! Thank you for being a part of this story.
To my little ones, who one day may read the words of your mother, I watched last night as your daddy read your name, the meaning behind each word and the promises we claim over you as he tucked you into bed. Even as we face days that are less than perfect, I remember the promises he has given.
And to answer your tiny question that started all this stirring… it’s the hope I carry that you too will grow to be everything he created you to be, a woman who loves well, fights for what’s right, stands for her beliefs and engages with courage, beauty and love – my deep desire to love you come hell or high water…
…that’s what makes me a mommy.
storyofagirl 