Sometimes I look at the life I am living with wonder and astonishment. I have heard many say that motherhood is hard...and unlike those that told me marriage would be hard, (see this post), I actually kind of agree with the "Motherhood is hard" group. It's hard, and crazy, and very, very chaotic at times. And amazing. I cannot let myself miss that part, too.
Because sometimes frustration bubbles up inside me at the blotch of snot that stains the front of nearly every dress I wear, from my two toddlers wailing into my lap over their many real and perceived woes. Or how sore and tired my back is, all the time, from hefting 30 pound kiddos many dozens of times per day. Sometimes I just want to kiss my husband and have a two minute conversation with him without hearing angry screams over the refusal to share a cardboard box that is somehow the best toy in all the world. (MUCH better than the approximately 3,768 actual toys that my children own.) Sometimes hearing "MAAAMAAA!!" while I'm taking a 2 minute bathroom break makes me want to run away and hide.
But then...oh, but then...
My youngest turns around in a patch of sunlight on my kitchen floor, and looks at me with huge, sparkling blue eyes, chubby pink cheeks, and a tiny cowlick curling up over one ear, and my heart melts. My two year old says, "I wuv you!" in that utterly endearing way of his, and I could weep for love of him. They give each other a squishy brother to brother hug when one of them gets up from a nap, and I want to gather them up in my arms, snot and all, and never let them go.
I never expected the suddenness of the mindset shift some days. Don't misunderstand me: I am not excusing my own sin when I shout, "Don't shout at your brother!!" instead of going into the other room and speaking quietly. But sometimes I can swing so quickly from utter irritation over training and disciplining for what seems like the ten thousandth time that day, to feeling utterly knocked over by the weight of the blessings God has poured out on me.
This is the life. This is the life I dreamed of as a little girl, the life I prayed for as an awkward and frizzy haired teenager with braces, the life I cried with longing for as I neared the age when it would be a possibility.
I prayed so long and so hard for the things I now hold in my hands.
Please, God...help me not to forget this. Help me to see Your fingerprints in my life. Help me to remember Your mercies to me. Don't let me miss these precious moments, right here and now, because I'm too busy having a pity party for the hour of sleep I lost last night.
I want to remember everything. Looking over as my fingers type these words, and seeing the man of my dreams sitting cross legged on the floor, building the most awesome Lego marble coaster ever, as Eben avidly tests it out over and over again. The way the sun warms my arms through the window and the shadows of the trees outside dapple the floor. Hearing Nathaniel hum a little song to himself as he plays. I want to view this journey of motherhood as a tool God is using to sanctify me, a good and precious gift from the Father of lights, not just something I have to struggle through. I want to choose joy, even when a nap sounds better. I want to say yes to my family over myself. I want to seek after God's face, and fill my cup from His Word, so that I can pour out to my loved ones with sweet abandon. I want others to look at my life and say,
"There is a woman who loves her God. There is a woman who loves her family. There is a mother."
Mykaela
