Our Walk

"It is the Holy Spirit's job to convict, God's job to judge, and my job to love." Billy Graham

Yesterday morning Peanut and I spent a while playing her new favorite game - "CATCH." Basically we sit in chairs, a few feet apart, and toss a playground ball back and forth.

The first few throws are usually good ones and I can catch them easily. Then her silly giggles set in and the wilder the throw the better. I reach, lunge, and still often miss many of them.

As I was sitting there yesterday, I realized this game of CATCH is exactly how I feel about motherhood lately.

It began with these basic throws - babies crying for what seemed like no reason, toddler tantrums, preschool fads. They were challenging, but I think for the most part I was catching them.

About a year ago, I feel like our basic game of CATCH became Ultimate Dodgeball. Not only am I no longer catching them, but I'm stunned at what's being thrown half the time.

Somehow yesterday, a year of playing Ultimate Dodgeball caught up to me. I think I cried all day.

This realization that Mother's Day weekend was upon us. I don't want to be celebrated. I feel beaten and bruised, weary and tired, and downright done with dodgeball.

I may have spent a half hour researching hotels yesterday. Don't judge. I can't be the only mother on the planet who thought for just a few minutes "Perhaps the answer to all this madness is just NOT mothering that day."

For a bit, I let myself imagine a day where no balls would be thrown. No guilt would be carried. No child would push boundaries. I wouldn't look at these children in a way that breaks my heart. A day where each of them would not hurl things at me that I am unable to catch.

I remembered that often the challenge with holidays come from the expectations.

So, I decided to spend my hotel money on a larger pool (which selfishly will keep 2 of my 3 children off screens and make them sleep better) and wake up right here tomorrow.

There will be balls thrown. I will not catch all of them. The way this week is going, I may not catch any of them.

I will mother these people as the action verb it's intended to be. I will accept that mothering, for me right now, is not the passive noun that Hallmark touts on it's Mother's Day cards. The day will not be one of all smiles and happy togetherness.

I will hold faith that His plan is greater than mine. That none of these balls surprise Him. He's not beaten or bruised, tired or weary. He's not done with me, or them.

Mama Warriors, I share this because I know - many of you are also beaten and bruised, tired and weary, done. You are not alone.

Of course you love being their mother.

Of course you are blessed and you know it.

Of course you wouldn't choose any other path.

It doesn't make you less, it makes you MORE.

17 Jesus, overhearing, shot back, “Who needs a doctor: the healthy or the sick? I’m here inviting the sin-sick, not the spiritually-fit.” Mark 2

I read this week that baptism is BEGINNING of your faith journey.

I've often lamented that I didn't have a great testimony to share. I grew up in church, was baptized early, and didn't know another life.

I knew Jesus, but I didn't NEED Jesus.

Until I began to play Ultimate Dodgeball with these children of mine.

So really, perhaps tomorrow I'll thank them. For forcing me to find my testimony. For giving me a relationship with Him that I didn't know I needed.

Peanut woke yesterday and said "Mommy on Mother's Day the kids get presents from the Mothers!"

Everyone sort of giggled but then I realized, she's probably the smartest one here.

Our walk as we mother them, it's our gift to them.

Published May 2018