Happy Mother's Day

Mother’s Day is approaching, and I see funny, good-humored reminders on social media about how long an epidural needle is or what 10cm dilated actually looks like.  If you didn’t know, they’re both pretty big, suggesting the pain and trauma endured.  All are things that one might should remember before shopping for Mother’s Day gifts. I appreciate the joke and I have plenty fodder of my own for more.   

If I had attempted to deliver my oldest child in the pioneer days of my ancestors, we’d have been a scantly documented story in some dilapidated journal that read “she labored for days and then we lost them both”.  My husband would then be left to marry, for survival reasons of course, the next young widow to arrive in a covered wagon and they would then create a dozen more children with far better bone structure due to her far better suited cephelopelvic proportion.   

I”ve been sliced and diced four times with a c-section including that first one.  The anxiety that goes with that, the physical pain, the scars are real.  Some of my deliveries included both the pain of labor and the pain of a major surgery.  After all the deliveries came the real, child-guilt rendering work of motherhood, cleaning up sick in the middle of the night, applying pressure to blood gushing wounds while keeping the child in your arms calm and reassured, the sleepless nights, the giant messes, the forgotten football cleats left at home 60 miles away needed for THE game, the endless concern, consternation, worry, the agony of letting that child gain independence by stepping out into the world bit by bit on their own.   

I, as well as all mothers, have plenty of guilt guilded ammunition to win a war as if a great debt has been owed to us for all of our hard work.  I don’t say this because mothers have this hard work and fathers don't, it's just different hard work and that’s a whole different blog post.  Maybe see me in June for that.  I’m also not saying that women who don’t have children do not have great purpose in God’s plan, it’s just a different sacred area and now that I've got that disclaimer out of the way.... 

I am saying that we’ve put in some time, labor and sweat in this thing. It's the kind of work that fundamentally changes a person and in that way, it is often sacrificial and Holy.   I certainly don’t mind the lighthearted joking about mom guilt, but I don’t really care for any serious interpretation of that as if they owe me anything. 

First of all, my children have been a far greater blessing to me than I could ever hope, even in my most valiant motherly hour when I’m drenched in sweat and laboring over their well-being.  God placed them in my lap, blessings I surely do not deserve.  They have made me better a billion times over and most importantly they have brought me closer to God in times of varying emotion, when I have been filled with indescribable joy and love and times when I’ve been dropped to my knees in reverent despair.   

So, if there was anything I would want my children to know and remember on Mother's Day, it’s to recognize and respect things that are sacred glimpses of God’s love.  Motherhood is one of them.     

In our society our perspective on motherhood is askew.  We’re told it's merely a sideline we can participate in if we wish.  I would argue that our society often masks or minimizes many women’s need and desire to fulfill their purpose as mothers.     

There are quiet moments like in the still of a 2am feeding with your newborn when the sacredness is boldly apparent. Tiny fingers reaching out to you in the shadowy night, their need acknowledging your vital role, one only you can fill.   That 2am newborn fatigue is difficult but the idea that you are vital and stepping into a sacred role is so apparent.  I think that’s why it’s so easy for our world to fight for maternity leave but not necessarily the ability for a mom to stay at home with her babies and serve in that way as her primary vocation.  Any disguising the fact that mom is important is the work of Satan.  What’s terrible is that Satan works on mom herself, leading her to believe that her role isn’t vital and can be done by just about anyone else.    

What’s difficult is that a mother has to work to see the importance of her role in times when it’s not so visible, when things are personally or inwardly difficult.  When you have to swallow your pride or submit to your biblical role in the home as ‘aiding warrior’ instead of ‘major general’.  When you need to remember God’s design, even if you might not understand all of it.  When you need to be quiet and gentle and compassionate even though you feel like ripping someone to shreds and summoning the name of Boudica as you slaughter your enemies, THIS.  This is the time when we need to recognize sacred things the most.  When our pride looms, when our anger threatens our self-control, when it would be easy to trample the sacred, beautiful thing that God made motherhood and the role of wife to be.   

So kids, maybe something for the garden or a couple new chickens to add to the flock would be a nice gesture this year and you know I love a funny t-shirt or a unique coffee mug but make no mistake, it is a joy and the greatest honor to serve God as your mom.  I am daily humbled to know that this is my most favorite job and my greatest ministry.  It is sacred and to be valued and I often have to take a knee so to speak.  I often have to stop and fervently pray over my own thoughts and actions because of the great honor and responsibility it is to be here.  What has been placed on my shoulders is a sacred treasure I hope I never take for granted.   

And moms, you’re doing a great and wonderful thing.  Don’t let the world tell you anything different.  Mothers are civilization builders and God-installed gatekeepers of the home, never forget how important that is, even if you’re elbow deep in a diaper blow out.