“There is no way to be a perfect mother, but a
million ways to be a good one.”
-Jill Churchhill
Motherhood is by far the most complicated,
confusing roles I’ve had to play in my life.
On the one hand, I feel monumentally thankful
that God entrusted these two little humans to me.
But then I think – what? God entrusted these
little two humans to ME? Maybe He made a mistake because … what?
I feel important because, well, I am a MOTHER. I
do everything. I fix owies, put people to sleep, tend to emotional needs and
make a mean mac n’ cheese.
But then, I feel SO small. Because sometimes I
can’t. I can’t muster the strength for one more tantrum. I can’t kiss away
their pain. And a lot of times, I just take them to McDonalds.
I feel strong. Because I gave birth. I provided
sustenance to two growing children. I am one half of the duo they rely on most
in the world.
And yet I’m the most vulnerable I’ve ever been.
I can’t make the world better for them; I can’t guarantee that their lives will
be without heartbreak or hurt. I can’t do any of that.
So I’m confused. I’m also sometimes on my knees
asking why in the WORLD me?
Because maybe someone else could do it better.
Like the Pinterest mom with the flawlessly
executed birthday parties. Those people craft and build imaginations and
introduce their children to so much wonder. Right?
Or the organized mom who owns a calendar and
plans meals and matches outfits. Those people are on time, on top of it and not
constantly stressed. Right?
Or the mom who doesn't have so much baggage or so many weaknesses and flaws. I mean, nobody's perfect, but someone has to be far closer to perfect than me. Right?
Or the talented mom who can sew baby clothes
and write music and is well-traveled and cultured. Those people go far in life.
Right?
The contradictions, the comparisons – all the
different ways you are pulled or taught to believe what is right in raising a child. It is so confusing
sometimes. Are you really doing everything right?
Are YOU really the right one for the job?
On one particular day when I was NOT feeling not
so qualified – I remember sneaking into my daughter’s room and holding her
hand as she drifted off to sleep. Feeling my hand grab hers, she tossed a bit,
then looked at me half asleep and said, “I love you so much. You’re the best mommy in the world.”
Exactly those words.
I just have to keep remembering - I AM the right person for the job because He made it so. He knew
exactly which mother, out of every mother in the world, those two precious kids would need.
Me.
Because to them – somehow messy, undeserving,
flawed me – is their "best mommy in the world."
I’ll take it. I hope you will, too. Throw yourself a bone and pat yourself on the back. On Mother’s
Day and every day of this crazy, confusing little journey called motherhood.
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