What I Wanted for Mother’s Day, Versus What I Got

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Disclaimer: I definitely want my two wonderful boys, Sam (3) and Seth (16 months). It’s the sometimes-harsh conditions of the job and the crazy emotions that go along with it that have me at my wit’s end some days.

I wanted a gold star, I suppose. Recognition for a job well done. I wanted black and white answers, adequate sleep, and my sanity. I wanted happily ever after in the here and now.

But on Mother’s Day I lay in bed feeling low, unable to post one positive thing about motherhood, or one cute picture of my kids (see end of this post for some cute pics). No one told me I was doing a good job, least of all the voices inside my own head. Instead, I lay there doubting that motherhood had yet brought out one good thing in me–and wondering if I was screwing up my kids because I couldn’t get it together. At three years in, I was sick in bed with a sore throat, unable to mother my kids well because of my pain–the physical pain symbolizing a deeper pain motherhood has brought. 

It’s the pain of realizing the pain of life isn’t over yet. Happy chapters may have concluded, they may have led us into new, hopeful beginnings…much like the picture of my life I presented at the end of my memoir, Ending the Pain. (I just want to say here that the editors chose this title. And I want to clarify that some pain did end for me. But not all pain.)

All my pain is not over–and all your pain is not over–because we are caught in a war, a great controversy, between Christ and Satan. And the happy endings that our culture–our movies, our books, our music–sell us are not the truth. Our ultimate happy ending is not to be found in the “perfect” mate, our darling children, a new job, or pursuing our passions. Our happy endings are to be found in Jesus, who is coming again one day to take us away from this sin-soiled world and wipe away all our tears. But that day is not here yet.

Oh, I have been disappointed so often in life, because I put my trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. I trusted in things and people.

When will I learn that I must trust in God for everything?

On Mother’s Day I needed comfort for all my fears, insecurities, and unknowns–and when my husband gave me time to rest, God led me back to three portions of Scripture I’d marked in my Bible (pre-kids, when I had more time to study the Bible) to strengthen my heart.

Psalm 91 was the first Scripture God gave me, for all the fear, loneliness, and fretful waking hours I’ve faced in motherhood: 

Those who live in the shelter of the Most High
    will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
This I declare about the Lord:
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
    he is my God, and I trust him.
For he will rescue you from every trap
    and protect you from deadly disease.
He will cover you with his feathers.
    He will shelter you with his wings.
    His faithful promises are your armor and protection.
Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night,
    nor the arrow that flies in the day.
Do not dread the disease that stalks in darkness,
    nor the disaster that strikes at midday.
Though a thousand fall at your side,
    though ten thousand are dying around you,
    these evils will not touch you.
Just open your eyes,
    and see how the wicked are punished.

If you make the Lord your refuge,
    if you make the Most High your shelter,
10 no evil will conquer you;
    no plague will come near your home.
11 For he will order his angels
    to protect you wherever you go.
12 They will hold you up with their hands
    so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.
13 You will trample upon lions and cobras;
    you will crush fierce lions and serpents under your feet!

14 The Lord says, “I will rescue those who love me.
    I will protect those who trust in my name.
15 When they call on me, I will answer;
    I will be with them in trouble.
    I will rescue and honor them.
16 I will reward them with a long life
    and give them my salvation.”

(Psalm 91, NLT)

I wanted life to be smooth sailing when I became a mom. I wanted to have perfect children, predictable schedules, lots of sleep, and a yelling-free life. 

But that, obviously, is not what I have. I have two beautiful, healthy, wonderful boys, but they rarely act according to my ideas of how they should act.

With Sam in his terrible three’s, we are seeing new parenting struggles I never knew existed. Why would someone cry because I turned off the light? Why would he scream because I moved a rug? Why would the world come to an end because I just want him to eat pizza? (What kid doesn’t like pizza?) And then, why would he tantrum some more because I wiped his tears away and he wants me to “put them back”? Moreover, how do you get a three-year-old boy to keep his clothes on? And why, suddenly, won’t he sleep all night in his room? How is he raring to go by 5:30 or 6 a.m., when he doesn’t even nap? How can I possibly prepare myself to deal with him when he’s up till 8, in my bed through the night, and awake by 6? Lord, can I give him back?

Clearly, I’m struggling. I don’t know the answers to so many questions right now with my kids, mostly Sam. I know the phases are largely temporary, but man, will I even survive the phases before one of us gets killed? (possibly by me?)

The Bible says to “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it” (Prov. 22:6). But I’m so confused. I’ve tried everything I can think of: timeouts, loss of privileges, positive reinforcement, spankings, selective ignoring, you name it. And I still don’t get the results I want most of the time.

Hebrews 12:1-12, and James 1:2-4 are the the second and third Scriptures God gave me, to encourage me especially in the areas of motherhood and discipline and endurance.

12 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith.[a] Because of the joy[b] awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne. Think of all the hostility he endured from sinful people;[c] then you won’t become weary and give up. After all, you have not yet given your lives in your struggle against sin.

And have you forgotten the encouraging words God spoke to you as his children?[d] He said,

“My child,[e] don’t make light of the Lord’s discipline,
    and don’t give up when he corrects you.
For the Lord disciplines those he loves,
    and he punishes each one he accepts as his child.”[f]

As you endure this divine discipline, remember that God is treating you as his own children. Who ever heard of a child who is never disciplined by its father? If God doesn’t discipline you as he does all of his children, it means that you are illegitimate and are not really his children at all. Since we respected our earthly fathers who disciplined us, shouldn’t we submit even more to the discipline of the Father of our spirits, and live forever?[g]

10 For our earthly fathers disciplined us for a few years, doing the best they knew how. But God’s discipline is always good for us, so that we might share in his holiness. 11 No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.

12 So take a new grip with your tired hands and strengthen your weak knees.

(Hebrews 12:1-12, NLT)

Hebrews says, “No discipline is pleasant while it’s happening.” And as I struggle to discipline my strong-willed three-year-old, I feel like the one God is disciplining. He is refining me, trying to scorch off the impurities through these trials. I want my three-year-old to have self-control. But I still lack it.

I got so angry at Sam a week after Mother’s Day that I threw his toy across the room and broke it. (It was a $1 water spray bottle, but still. I can’t believe I could act so childishly.)

While reflecting on all this, I remembered the words from the keynote speaker at the Texas retreat where I spoke over a month ago: of her young motherhood years, she said, “I grew up with my children.” Well, count me in that category, too. I still definitely have some growing up to do.

Dear brothers and sisters,[a] when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.

James 1:2-4 (NLT)

God’s Words says, essentially, Be glad for the trials/temptations, for when they have had their perfect work, you will be mature and complete.

“You’re not mature and complete. You’re not done yet, Lindsey,” God says to me through these verses.

But it hurts so much, Lord, it’s so hard, I cried out to God on my Mother’s Day sick bed. Oh, I need it to get better, Lord! I need this to get easier! I need to go back to work, Buc to stay home, something to change. 

“Oh really? Or do you just need to learn to trust me? Trust that, when you reach a breaking point, Buc will step in; or Janice will ring the doorbell; or the tantrum will somehow subside; or, if you must, you’ll throw the kids in the car and one of them will fall asleep; or, at the least, you’ll sit down on the couch and just cry with them, all three of you, and the moment will pass.” (All of these scenarios have played out in my life, by the way.)

No discipline is enjoyable while it’s happening.

It hurts, Lord. I guess I have a hard time trusting you. I have a hard time not knowing so much about how my day will play out, each and every day. It hurts.

I have to believe the best is yet to come. I do believe it. Just like I believe God when He says:

The terrors by night will not overcome you [by “terrors,” I wonder…does he mean small children who won’t sleep?]…my promises are your protection and strength.

I wanted this to be easy, and I wanted only the good parts that come with motherhood. Much like I wish my Christian life would play out.

But being a Christian doesn’t guarantee fun, ease, enjoyability. Momming is a lesson in Christianity. (I’ve blogged about this before.) “Submit, submit, submit,” I keep hearing God whisper to me. I must submit to the Refiner’s fire. So, I say, I pray: Mold me, Lord. Burn me if you have to. Burn away the dross. Mold me into the mom you want me to be.

I guess the refining process is heartily underway.

So, I didn’t get my gold star on Mother’s Day. I didn’t get any recognition for a job well done. I didn’t get black and white answers, didn’t get happily ever after in the here and now.

What I got is the loud and clear message to “Hold on!” It might not be easy, but God will protect me, strengthen me, uphold me, and one day he will complete (perfect, mature) me. I may not be doing the job well, right now, but the job’s not done, and neither am I.

I guess this is enough, for now…as long as I get adequate sleep and keep my sanity–my other two wishes for Mother’s Day.

This blog post is To Be Continued, because I haven’t gotten adequate sleep for a few months, and I’ve actually questioned my mental health. With these two things in the balance, some days seem utterly dark and unmanageable (the water-bottle-throwing day was one of them). In my next post, I will write about mommy mental health and what God is showing me so far about how I can manage my Larger than Little People’s emotions.

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