Losing Sight of Motherhood

I have lost sight of my motherhood. 

I keep thinking that my motherhood is how clean my house is. Or that it’s having folded fresh laundry. Or that it’s having zero boy-pee on the bathroom floor. WHY is there so much pee on the floor? That toilet bowl is BIG. It is not like a small mason jar that is moving. This is a large and stationary bowl for all the pee. Let’s make this work. I really think we can do this.

I keep thinking that my motherhood is my organization. And my healthy, balanced meals and my vacuum marks.

But what happens if we fail at this? And why do I think this is true?

Why do I think that my motherhood equals easy? Equals organized? Equals perfect?

I feel a sense of control and order when I see less chaos, to be sure. But let’s be clear: I am not in control and order is fleeting. Who am I kidding? No one. Not you. Not me. I am out of all the control. Because we are dealing with PEOPLE. People are fluid and are full of energy and ideas and don’t fit into labeled boxes and vacuum marks. These young people need space, freedom, creativity and a mom who is ordered in her heart, not necessarily in her pantry. 

Yes, my motherhood certainly involves the chores. Laundry. Groceries. Cleaning up pee. (WHY) But if we reduce our motherhood to these things, then we rob the majesty from our motherhood.

My motherhood needs to be recovered. Searched out. Found. Watered. 

I want to find myself sitting on the floor and playing cars and watching my son’s blue eyes smile back at me as I make terrible “car” noises and character plays. Cars. Who is good at this? Does anyone love playing cars? Does anyone feel like they nail it? Teach me your ways! 

I want to find myself peaceful and calm in the chaos of getting out the door. 

I want to find myself using my smile as often as humanly possible toward my children.

I want to find myself teaching them about the King who made them and loves them.

I want to find myself pointing to grace and praying for our worries and laughing at our mistakes.  

And I want to find myself standing, with my chin up, in God’s grace when I fail at my motherhood. When I fail at my chores. When I fail at it all. And find that my strength comes from God’s grace. 

When I know I can’t be perfect and I rest in God’s grace.

When I know I am screwing up my kids (who isn’t) and that God’s grace fills in the blanks.

When I know I was handed weakness with motherhood. And God's grace is made perfect in that. 

I thought I was getting a cape.
Instead I got weakness.
And then I got grace. 

I want to recover grace in my motherhood.
Recover freedom.
Recover rest.
Recover laughter. 

I want to even boast in my limitations, in my failures, in my junk all the more that God's power rests on me. Boasting in my failure? So upside-down of us. So not what our culture teaches. So Jesus.

Our culture teaches Cover-up. Hide. Make it look perfect. 

God's grace teaches Live in the light. Be free. Let God's grace set us to rest. 

Let’s recover our motherhood together.
Let's pour grace upon grace upon each other.
Let's do what our Good King did and lavish grace in every place. 

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding....
— Ephesians 1:8

“He gives a greater grace. Therefore it says, “God is opposed to the proud, but gives grace to the humble.”
— James 4
Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you;
therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.
For the Lord is a God of justice.
Blessed are all who wait for him!
— Isaiah 30
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
— 2 Cor 12:9
Amy Seiffert