Reflections as a daughter:

I remember one time I was painfully sick.  I do not remember the exact age; it was somewhere in my teens.  I went to bed and was awoken in the wee hours of the night by my mother crying into the phone to a friend that she’d give anything for her to be sick instead of me.  I know she does not know I overheard that.  But I’ve carried that love she had for me in that moment since.  Even through the hellish years that followed, I always clung to that moment that I knew the depths of a mother’s love for her child.

Reflections as a mother:

I am unable to describe the emotions that swept over me when my barely 8-week-old son had a 103.5 fever.  They said it was better for me to wait outside and not witness the tests they had to put him through.  Unable to fight under the weariness, I stepped outside but looked on through the slits of the blinds on the door as my baby screamed and internally I did as well while tears poured down pale cheeks.  The moment I went back to him I told him I’d never do that again–never leave him.  It didn’t matter what was best for me.  He needed me there to comfort him.  In that moment, I knew the pains my mother felt so many years before.  I would have given anything in that moment to trade places with him.


I wrote under an Instagram photo last night that daily I am humbled at the honor and privilege it is to be called a mommy.  It truly is a gift and, to me, a calling.

I’ve often wondered why I’ve never felt a passion for anything.  Through college, I just wafted not really knowing who or what I wanted to be.  Even post-college, I somewhat aimlessly went from job to job never feeling a sense of…completion.

And I think I finally know why.

It’s because the only thing that feels right, that feels natural…is being mommy.

I think so often in my life a sense of un-fulfillment happens when I’m asked about returning to school or some other career-type question.  There is this natural sense in today’s world to work for more and to want it.  We want parents, especially moms, to be involved but then we make them feel guilty if “all they want” is to be at home with their babes.

I have the best of both worlds with a part-time job that gives back to the community and honors kingdom work, but the truth is the best part of my weeks are when I’m taking care of my home and getting afternoons to be with my boy.

Now don’t read too much into this and think, “She’s just perfect!”  As much as I write about the calling of motherhood, you’ll notice I don’t say much about being a wife or even how the calling translates into tangible evidence of such.

Because it’s hard.  Because I downright complain about it more often than not.  Because Lord knows this momma loves to just lay on the couch.

Too many dishes.  Never-ending loads of laundry.  I need more milk.  Where is my baseball uniform.

The chores are endless.  The questions are endless.  And third-grade homework and book reports may be what God uses to call me home.

And yet, it’s in those places, in those moments, in those tasks where I feel most at home.

At least that’s what came out of my mouth yesterday.  I had told myself I would do absolutely no work on Mother’s Day.  No dishes to be washed; no beds to be made.  Yeah, that lasted about two hours.

My happy place is in clean sinks and rooms that are fixed up.  So I did those things.  I reorganized two closets.  I dusted our study.

And when just this past week I lamented about the plight of having to do dishes, when my husband asked me yesterday, “Why are you washing dishes on Mother’s Day?” without hesitation I answered, “Because I like to.”

There’s the truth.

Because the lies are easy to come out when you’re tired and overwhelmed.  When you’ve had a bad day and standing at the sink scrubbing yet another pot makes you feel under appreciated.

It may not be fancy.  It doesn’t pay (at least financially).  But it’s the most beautiful job there is to care and nurture a home that when people come in they can just breathe.

I so admire my many family and friends who are doing great things with their education and careers.  And I love that about mommyhood–we make the choices that are best for our families.

But for me to understand that being content with where I am and what I have in this moment without feeling pressure or guilt is monumental.  And I hope that I can keep this momentum in coming weeks that turn into months that turn into years when inevitably it will get hard again and doubt will creep in about what I am supposed to do and who I am supposed to be.


481001_10151377124332187_1980887799_nI had a wonderful Mother’s Day yesterday.  The boys left early to church and I awoke to a card.  Inside was such a special surprise and I’ll share about that next week!  What I can say about the gift is that it showed me how much my husband listens to me.  And that’s why I burst into tears as I saw the gift and read beautiful words.

I remained weepy all morning.  We live in a time where it is so hard to just throw out a blanket “Happy Mother’s Day!” out.  There are so many levels and emotions mixed up into the day.  So much hurt and you want to acknowledge that and be sensitive to it while also celebrate those who have been greatest the gift in the world.

With that, I thanked God throughout the day for the gift.  I want to be intentional about remaining grateful for it, even on the hard days.  I can be rough but I trust that when I ask God to change me, He will.

For any mommies reading, I hope you had a wonderful day.  But I also hope you celebrate every day the wonderful job you’ve been given.

It’s not for the faint of heart.

But it is always, always worth it.

On a side note, we ended the night with baby boy having an asthma flare up and waking up this morning even worse.  He’s home with me now.  You’ll remember the last time this happened was on my birthday.

Ah, at least he’s consistent in stealing mommy’s thunder. 😉


Celebrating the one who gave me life and the one who gave me reason to live it well.
Mother’s Day 2013

I’m linking up with::



One thought on “Reflections.

  1. Pingback: When your husband hears your heart. | A Life Well Done

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