Really?! Is the thing that I most commonly do really what
defines who I am? If so I am a bottom wiper… or I am a cook, or a professional
shouter? I don’t want to be a mom. I don’t want that to become my identity, though
I feel myself fading away into the piles of laundry, the countless episodes of
toddler correction and discipline, the countless mistakes made that make me lay
awake at night and wonder if I have scarred them for life. I don’t want to be a
mom because I know someday that won’t be the headline of my life…. maybe that’s
the reason. Someday when they can all
wipe their bottoms and get a glass of milk for themselves and drive and move
away I will still be a mom but I will again have this thing that I hear exists
called, “free time”. I know it exists because there are many well educated
people out there who will genuinely suggest that I use this, “free time” to
accomplish tasks that I may complain are not being accomplished because of my
occupation as mother. I am starting to wonder though if maybe these people are
wizards and this “free time” is something that they conjured up out of bat
wings and toad warts. “I’m so tired of having a mountain of laundry in my
bedroom staring at me as I try to go to sleep.”
I say, “Oh maybe you will just have to use your free time this week to
get that laundry out of the way” the wizard replies. Apparently I missed that day of chemistry
where they taught us how to brew a large batch of “free time” … well actually I failed chemistry
so there we go. I knew I was going to need everything I could have learned in
that class for every day practical use!!! Well at least I will have something
to tell my kids when they don’t want to do their homework. “Hey kid your gonna
want to learn this because someday you may have a crazy schedule and you may
really want to brew a batch of “free time” and you won’t know how if you don’t
work hard at school”. Apparently my kids will be attending Hogwarts. But really… I can honestly say without any
pause or question that this is not a symptom of laziness, disorganization or procrastination; I really
don’t have any spare time. And that’s ok. Right now I should probably just plan
on wearing slippers around the house so I don’t continue getting stabbed by
dried rice clusters, I should buy some good smelling bathroom spray to carry in
the pocket of my robe to use in various stinky situations and name the pile of
laundry “Spot” so that people can think I have a cute fluffy dog that drives me
crazy every week instead of a abnormal size mountain of textiles living in my
bedroom. The only time that pile gets put away is when I remember that if I
leave it, spiders will take up residence in it and then I will have not an
annoying pile of laundry but a terrifying arachnid sky scraper apartment
complex in the corner of my bedroom. Anyways…. maybe the fact that I will not be primarily a
mom again someday is not the real reason that I want to say my habits don’t
define me. Actually I really need them
to not define me because if they do then I really don’t know how to be happy. I
really don’t want to have this responsibility at all; responsible for three
human lives, three whom I love so much that if my love was gummy bears it would
fill the grand canyon, to the point that
it hurts. I can’t do THAT! It’s WAY too scary. There are way too many variables
and danger and just an endless pit of opportunity to fail. I don’t want to be a
failure. I want to succeed, and for others to see my success, and pat me on the
back as we take off in a celebratory hot air balloon ride while we toast champagne to my great success
in whatever I’m the best at. No failure.. failure bad…. Success good and warm
and fuzzy and comfortable. But I want these kids. I don’t want to adopt them
out, even though last weekend I did try to convince Phina that her aunt Kimmy
was her new mommy. When I really think about it I do want to keep them. I
really enjoy them. They are sweet and snuggly and they make me so proud. They
sometimes obey me, they are beautiful, they teach me about Jesus and help me
see His love more clearly, they love me. Oh these kids are awesome. They are
wonderful! But they make me fail. They show how much sin I have in me. More than
any other relationship, my relationship with my kids reveals the parts of my
heart that are STILL so stinking wicked and I don’t want to see that. I don’t
want to see how much I fail at things important and things not so important,
like having a daily schedule, a “Structure” for my kids.. I’m totally failing
at that. Maybe that’s the key here. I am not what I habitually do because when
you are a mom you have NO habit. You can’t stay in the comfort zone when you
have three toddlers dragging you out of it. If you have a life where you
habitually do things in an organized fashion it’s pretty easy to not fail, or
at least to avoid seeing your failures. When your not doing something of great
value with your life it’s pretty easy to just ignore mistakes and character
flaws but when you have great value for your job, perfection is the standard. I love my kids,
and so I desperately want them to be
raised with perfection, but I’m all they’ve got in the mom department and I’m
seeing more and more every day that I am nowhere near perfection. So if anyone
reading this is a perfect mom will you please adopt my children and raise them
because I want the best for them. Oh wait, I’m supposed to be trusting the Lord
here aren’t I and oh, um He is the one who chose me to be these awesome kids
mama. Hmmm God’s perfect plan for my kids was imperfection? His perfect plan
for them was me? Ok honesty warning
right here. The other night after quite a normal day I was crying in my
closet saying, no pretty much yelling to God, “you chose the wrong
person!” and it’s not because I’m not
doing a good job. It’s because I can’t stand to see my sinful reflection
revealed any more by these little tools of sanctification. I guess I should
have been more specific when I asked God to make me like Him NO MATTER WHAT the
cost. I should have said, “Lord please make me like you through copious amounts
of ice cream eating, make my trials consist of brain freezes and difficult
walks to the freezer for refills.” That would have been way better. But I need to stop worrying so much, because God
is doing a great job. He is doing a perfect job AND his choice of application
of sanctification through being a mom right now isn’t even that bad….at all! He
chose an amazing and wonderful application, a form of teaching that will not
hurt me or cause me great suffering, or require me to lose any limbs, an avenue
that will bless me for the rest of my life, getting to see these people grow
into whatever God is making them into and being able to know that I played a part
in it. BOY am I getting a great deal here! Sanctification AND wonderful children!? I think I figured out who
I want to be. I DO want to be a mom, because being a mom really means being in
the habit of seeing my failures, asking for help with them and becoming more
like Jesus. And Jesus is definitely, positively, totally who I want to be like.
You are what you habitually do? I’m choosing habitually do whatever Jesus wants
me to do……Halelujah!
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