My first pregnancy took me by fearful surprise. It was a life-changing event that brought about a marriage, a move, a complete altering of my life. I trembled at the thought of everything that had just slipped through my fingers - all of my dreams lost and to be forgotten, the pretty picture shattered by reality.
But when I held my sweet boy in my arms, I knew this is what I was meant to be. Right there, right then, I knew MAMA was my perfect profession.
Those sweet first moments faded away, though, they've gotten scattered about through the phases of screaming through the night, food being thrown in my hair, climbing up onto every surface available.
New members of the family have made their entrances, adding new challenges, new situations, new reasons to question the profession I have been handed.
I thought it was so right, so perfect in that moment of newness, of beauty, of joy. Why didn't anyone tell me how immensely difficult being a mama would be? Why wasn't I prepared for the complete draining of energy, sound mind, patience and sometimes soul, from these little ones? Why have I been given these sweet babies who have constant energy, special needs, wills the size of the moon? Why, Lord, did you think I could handle this?
Was it to punish me for my sins? To remind me of the consequences of premarital sex? Has it been to break me, time and time again so that I am so worn, my body no longer wants to rise out of bed in the mornings? What has been the meaning for this, Lord? You know I am weak. You know how I suffer. You know I am not equipped to do this alone!
"Be still, child. I am with you always. Lean not on your own understandings. Take upon my yoke. It is not heavy, it is not burdensome. You can do all things through me, who gives you strength."
Lord, I admit. I do not lean on you enough. I take on my own, heavy yoke that is so burdensome. I forget you are here. I ignore you, refuse your stength, rely on my own and get angry when I am so weary.
You call children blessings, when at times I do feel that they are burdens. When I rely on my own strength, parenting is burdensome, Lord. When I ignore you, I get so weak and want to give up. Is this what you mean for my life? Am I just so hardheaded, and hard hearted that I continually fight you in the lesson you want me to learn? You keep giving me more chances, sending me more blessings, giving me opportunities to know your peace, your joy, your rest. But I keep turning my head and walking my own path, seeing blessings as burdens, seeing chances as punishment, asking you Why? when you keep giving me the answer - "follow me".
Don't give up on me, Lord, please! Someday, hopefully, I'll get it.
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