I know you. You love your kids, but you are beyond tired, past exhaustion, drowning in diapers, laundry, and dirty dishes, and have no idea what you will fix for dinner tonight. On top of that, you are supposed to teach your kids something, or come home from work with a good attitude? It’s too much.
All you want is to take a shower without someone screaming at the bathroom door, and would give up almost anything for a decent night’s sleep. You feel unnoticed, unappreciated, and overwhelmed. You are a mom.
I’m a mom too, although I’m ahead of you on the road. I’m now a 63-year-old proud grandmother of 19 who raised and home educated seven children—who amazingly still like me—and we all lived to tell about it!
I’ve been where you are. It’s hard. Motherhood is no glamorous job, but it’s the highest calling you will ever have—a calling that will teach you things you didn’t know you needed to know.
This job will eventually end, leaving you with gray hairs, countless wrinkles, saggy skin, and yet, a heart that has grown and expanded in ways you didn’t know were possible. If you allow it, this job of motherhood will make you more like Jesus.
Let’s be honest—kids are needy. Our constant investment into their lives leaves us feeling depleted and needy, too. That’s ok because we are also children. Children of God. He loves us like we love our own children, despite our messiness, our sassy attitudes, and even when we break His heart. He loves us even more than we love our own children. He loves us because we are His.
Just as our children depend on our guidance, He assures us that we don’t have to do this mom thing alone. He is with us every step if only we will reach out and ask Him for help.
I’m reminded of the story of a little boy, impatiently standing in a long grocery check-out line. His mama holds his small hand firmly as he continually tries to leave her side. “Mama! You are hurting me,” he whines loudly.
“I am not the one pulling away, “ she answers him.
Weary mama, have you spent time with Him recently? Held His hand? Asked for help?
Father, as Your daughter, Your little girl, I sit at Your feet, weary, worn, and exhausted. I ask for Your strength to be mine. I need You, deeply. May Your great love for me spill over into my love for my children. Today, I choose to stand by Your side, holding Your hand as we face this day together.
Consider reading these passages from The Message.