From At the Well:
“I am such a bad mom!”
As it has happened before–more times than I care to mention–I retreat from the chaos, hollering, and fighting into my bedroom, to give myself a time out.
“Father, I need your help. I’m not doing a very good job at this!” I am irritated and impatient. Quick to anger, abounding in selfishness, and not at all clothed with compassion or gentle understanding. I desperately want to be a good mom. Really, I do! I only have one problem. Sin.
I remember reading a book, before my husband and I had any children of our own, that claimed to be about how to raise kids to love Jesus. In the opening chapter of the book, the author made it clear that I had better deal with all of my problem areas, shortcomings, and sins before I ever considered having kids. If I didn’t, there was no way my children would follow God. I, the inveterate perfectionist that I am, panicked. If that was the case, there was no way that I could ever be a mom.
God, in His providence, helped me to put that book down. I never did finish reading it. I think many Christian moms cripple ourselves with perfectionism. We weigh ourselves down with a heavy burden, as though our children were saved by our works of righteousness.
How foolish we are to think this way! Lord, help us! The truth of the matter is that I am a bad mom. You are a bad mom. We’re all bad moms. The only solution to our problem is the Gospel.
“It is a trustworthy statement, deserving full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, among whom I am foremost of all.” 1 Timothy 1:15 (NASB)
And so we repent and believe. And repent. And believe. And repent and believe.
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9 (ESV)
I confess my sins before Him. My totally desperate state, completely incapable of being a good mom on my own.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5 (ESV)
“I thank you, Father, that I don’t need to mother these children you have given me by my own strength. Help me to mother them by your grace.”
“Children, I’m really sorry for losing my temper just a few minutes ago. It was wrong of me to yell at you all like that. Will you forgive me?”
My little ones look up with me, with a sweet trust in their wide, precious eyes that I know I don’t deserve.
“Yes, Mom, we forgive you.”
They throw their arms around me, like the prodigal mom come home, and I choke back the tears. No, my children do not have a perfect mom. What they have is a redeemed mom. A mom who needs the Savior just as much as they do.
Bad Mom and Repentance
Nourished Roots
The warriors are laying low, flashes of light flickering across the front room, sleeping bags laid out upon the floor and eyes heavy with a hard days work. Swimming can take a warrior and bring him to a vulnerable pause...boys and their endless energy finds its weakness in a day of swimming and sun.
The quiet begins to settle in here and I have a moment to meditate and think of all the ways the Father has blessed my life, even when the blessings sometimes feel heavy like burdens they are gifts and blessings none-the-less.
The roots of the children slowly spreading into the soil we live on here, increasing their strength and bringing them steadfast memories which draw up character.
The arrows in the quiver are a part of God's plan to hold firm the front line against the enemy. They are to be grown into men who can withstand the enemy and fight for the honor of their Lord, their Savior. The arrows have been placed into my quiver, by God, as gifts, always as gifts nothing less, and their path is mine to sow.
Prayers cover them from my heart, exhaustive work and dedicated love to raise them up into men. I cry out to my God for help, and not often enough, as the days mark endless opportunities to fine tune their character and call them unto Him. Their flesh fights me so...
I hear them giggling, I see their sweet little toes pressed firmly against the wall unit as they watch the flickering images across the screen. Their unique God given personalities fill our home and engrave memories upon the walls. They are precious. Full of hugs, kisses, sweet embraces, in need of correction and discipline in order to find the straight path, and me often asking for forgiveness as we tread the path together...
God has placed us here together...
Father lift them towards you, hold them close, right my wrongs and teach them your ways. Wrestle the flesh that it may subside and your Glory be found. Increase their wisdom. Sow seeds of faith and carry them when they are weak. I give them to you just as you gave them to me.
I pray the roots we plant grow deep, nourished by the King.
