The other day I was on the phone with my best friend, Chrissy. If there is anyone who truly “gets” me, who knows the ins & outs of me, it’s her. I’ve never felt ashamed to share my struggles as a person, a wife, or a mother with her. The path of motherhood has only strengthened this bond we are both so thankful for. She’s an amazing mom & no doubt her children will “rise & called her blessed.” Isn’t this what we all want? I’ve posted about it before–the greatest desire of mine to be the best mom I can be to the little ones entrusted to my care.
But lately, a long lately, I’ve felt something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Then while reading the book I’ve quoted before, Home-Making, the phrase jumped out of the pages and pierced my heart–the reference was made to the tragedy of being “detached from your child’s soul.”
I’m totally ashamed to be admitting this, but it’s exactly how I’ve felt. I know these three kiddos in my house, but do I know their soul’s?? One of our speakers at camp said he wants his son to know the backside of his soul? Do my children know my soul? I’ve detached myself. I could blame it on a million things. I know it started getting overwhelming when Zoe & Judah were so close together but it was more like when they were 2 & 3. Then my pregnancy with Shiloh just sort of sent me over the edge (meaning there was much TV watching, many feelings of being overwhelmed, many days of going to sleep feeling like a total failure._
And now, I just don’t feel like I’ve ever really got that back (the soul-knowing) with Zoe & Judah. I don’t think it’s missing with Shi, but for some reason, it is with them. I tend to push away doing little things with them, walks, projects, reading because of a million stupid things that “overwhelm” me.
Something has got to change.
Please, someone tell me you’ve been there, too. I can’t be alone, can I?? No, I know I’m not. I’ve had this conversation with another precious friend of mine on a recent flea market trip (away from our children…) What hope do I have that this year will be a better year? An upcoming move. The beginning of homeschooling. A new baby on the way. Life is not going to slow down. Did I think it would? I’m convinced this thing of “holding out” for something has been misguided.
I’m holding out for:
- more time
- more money
- more space
- more time
- more direction
- more organization
- more time
Then I read this today:
Jesus, the Example
Heb. 12:1-2 1 Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance (burden, heavy load) and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
or even better from the Message
1-3Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!
Now that calls for a big fat AMEN!
Again, I’m trying to do it all in my own strength. Can we just have a little “hold me Jesus” moment, thank you Rich Mullins…
“Surrender don’t come natural to me
I’d rather fight you for something I don’t really want
Than to take what you give that I need”
Well, I feel better now. There’s a little bit of “fresh honesty” from the mouth of me. I feel like a loser, like I’ve totally failed as a mom (and I’m really not looking for any “you’re a great mom” comments. If you’re a mom, you know where I’m coming from). But the point isn’t my failure–it’s the JOY set before me. The prize I’m running toward as a follower of Christ. I’m feeling a little “stripped down”–how about you??