Strip Away

Being a mom is one of the (if not THE) hardest jobs. There's a lot at stake.

I'm feeling more and more anxious about bringing another baby into our family. My highest calling is to be a wife first, and a mom second. A friend, a neighbor, a member of my community follow... And eventually in that list (way down the list) is the job I get paid to do. But, somehow, in this season of life, I've had to focus much of my time on the paid job, versus the rewarding job of being an (unpaid) mom. This breaks my heart every day. I'm seriously conflicted. Scott and I have spent much time in prayer over this issue. I just wish, hope and pray that I could be at home with my little ones during the early years, working along side Jesus as He molds and makes them into the little people He has created them to be. I can think of nothing more important than that.

And I love being a mom. I love everything that goes with it - even the diapers that are so full of poop that it smooshes out the top and sides and gets all over who-knows-what, and the nights when I'm up 5 times to take a temperature and change sheets because of diarrhea and vomit, and even the stage when the fits and talking back begin... I love it all.

And because I'm a working mom, it's difficult to find time to serve others because my time is split between work and home. Every moment I'm not working, I want to be with my son... (and being domestic, because laundry doesn't wash and fold itself, and dishes don't jump in the dishwasher by themselves, and the floors don't sweep themselves, and the ceiling fans don't dust themselves, and the lawn doesn't mow itself...). So that leaves little (if any) time to love on my friends and my friends' kids, and take part in their lives. It leaves essentially no time to volunteer, or to support my friends in their ministries.

The thought of having two babies and missing out on this time with them is killing me. I find that my thoughts are increasingly at home when I'm working. I think about how I can pray for Scott, for Jeffrey, for this new little one... for Jeffrey's future wife... I think about entertaining our friends and their families so that they might be blessed in some way. I think about how I could be a better wife so that when Scott comes home, he can put his feet up and enjoy his evenings, rather than having to be the primary cook for the family every night. I think about how I could bring joy to my neighbors by showing them the love of Jesus rather than fuming quietly in my home when they park their car on the lawn, or let their garbage blow around their side yard... I think about how I will teach certain life's lessons to my children in a way that will build up their character and a love for Jesus.

**sigh**

But... here's the thing. I believe that God knows the desires of my heart. I pray with fervency. I realize that prayers aren't always answered in the way I want them to be... and sometimes these are dangerous prayers. Dangerous in the sense that in order to have X, big sacrifices may be necessary. (So, for instance, I want to be a stay at home mom, and God may just make that happen by essentially deleting my job... That would also suck because, financially, obviously that would be a HUGE hit, which would require some immediate changes - like selling both cars and practically everything else we own, unless we wanted to sell the house and move into some rinky dink apartment with smokers on either side, above and below us.) But... I wonder if that wouldn't somehow be a blessing? I'm sure it would. Maybe I couldn't see it right away, but, as God often works, the blessings of such a sacrifice aren't often noticed for miles down the road (translated into years, perhaps).

I wish I could share all that God has been doing in us these last several months. It has been entirely uncomfortable - often downright painful. But, oh, so tasty and rich. Maybe I'll share some of that in future posts. But suffice it to say that God has been stripping us down and helping us to see who He really is, who we are in light of that, and inviting us into a deeper worship and engagement in His beautiful Kingdom. I gladly and freely open my arms and say, "Here I am, Lord. Strip away."

I thank God for allowing me to become a mommy - not just once, but (with God's grace) twice. I've never seen more of who God is than I have since the birth of my son. When he was first born, I held him close to me and I finally experienced unconditional love. (There's a lot of talk about that in relationships, but, trust me, unconditional love doesn't just "happen" on its own... save when you have a child.) God loves that way. And now I know what He meant.

A couple of weeks ago, Jeffrey climbed on top of an end table, stood on the very edge and, while laughing, jumped off. Now... he didn't jump off because he wanted to fall to the floor and crack his head open or break his arm. He jumped because he knew his daddy was there to catch him (which he did). So, again, giggling, he climbed on top of the table, stood on the edge and jumped. Again, daddy was there to catch him. What faith! I wondered... do I have faith in my Father that way? It never crossed Jeffrey's mind that, perhaps, Daddy wouldn't be there to catch him.

Scott and I talked about Matthew 6:25-26, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?" Jeffrey doesn't worry about where he will sleep, or whether he'll eat, or whether or not he has clothing to wear. He just trusts that all of that will be taken care of. I want to trust that way.

If being a mom teaches me more about my Heavenly Father, then that's what I want to be - full time. I thirst for this kind of knowledge, this kind of faith.

Strip away, Jesus. Strip away.