My friend Christie has known me since before I had kids. I now have three. And she’s one of the few people with whom I can share my hard, ugly days of motherhood and always find help, empathy, encouragement.
I asked if she’d share about weathering some of those storms that can rock any mother. Because sometimes we all need to be reminded that we’re not in this alone.
Today, my firstborn begins the second grade. Stepping away from the bus stop, I am propelled toward my front door on a rushing tide of memories.
Predictably, I remember the first words and first steps. I remember the warm, September day she was born. But this river carries me even further back. Maybe it’s because we look so much alike?
Whatever the reason, I remember my own second-grade classroom (a portable unit), my best friend, Michelle (dark hair and freckles), and my teacher, Miss Hendry. She had romantic, upswept hair and looked like an Edwardian lady. All second-grade teachers should be so kind and beautiful.
I remember the heartbreak of discovering that my precious “show and tell” sand dollar had shattered in my bookbag. I wish my daughter might never open up a bag to find broken dreams and disappointed hopes, but I know that she will.
Her birth nearly eight years ago was, for me, dream made reality. I had waited, prayed, and cried for a child, and there she was. Flesh and blood and beauty in my arms.
But a dream come true is not always dreamy. By the time she was three months old my friend Cris had nicknamed her the “Texas firecracker,” and Cris hadn’t even seen her in meltdown mode.
A few years into motherhood, I sat in a small circle of women. An acquaintance turned to me and asked innocently, casually, “How’s your daughter?” I burst into tears. Back then, tears were the only answer I had to that question.
The out-of-control emotions, the out-of-control behavior, my own shameful, out-of-control responses to it all . . . these experiences had wounded me. I was a tearful, bruised mother looking for answers in every parenting book I could get my hands on.
Last week, a friend from those days gave me a call. Perhaps she was thinking of my bookcase stuffed with parenting solutions, or maybe she was thinking only of my hard-won experience, but she too was wounded. She could hardly voice her questions through the tears: “How did you handle these terrible, explosive days? Why does my small child have so much power to hurt me?”
We talked and prayed. I told her that time heals. It does get easier. Though I suppose it’s actually God using time, his own creation, to heal us.
I told her that in all those books I had, occasionally, found some little answers which helped, but I had never found the big answers I most needed. The answers to the questions: how to survive, let alone thrive? How to heal?
After our conversation, I walked into the home office to hang up the phone, and I spotted a handwritten note on my desk. In the awkwardly perfect print of a seven-year-old it said: “I love you a lot.”
From nightmarish meltdowns to love notes.
God does use time to heal. He uses time to make new. This note, well, it’s not only from my daughter. It’s a love note from the God who has sheltered us both.
Almost eight years in, I no longer picture motherhood as a list of questions matched up with expert answers. Now I know that on its darkest days, motherhood is not a test to be aced, not even a job to be done well, but a storm. What should a wise woman do? She should take shelter from the storm.
Today, motherhood looks to me like a boat. Yes, a boat.
It is a boat pitching about on wild waves, a fragile boat tossed by fierce winds. Searching desperately for answers, and afraid for my little seafaring companions, I find my Lord lying on the bottom of the boat. And He is asleep.
In the stillness of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing, I discover the Answer I’ve always sought. I don’t wake Him. I don’t even ask, “How do I fix this mess?”
Instead, I lie down by His side. I curl up tight and close my eyes, and in Him I find my rest.
Shelter from the storm for us all.
{Read more from Christie on her blog or find her on Facebook}
Thank you for sharing! This is just what I needed to hear!
mercy. who knew we would have to seek it as parents? i went in to motherhood much like marriage – a romantic. as soon as a nurse put that screaming boy in my arms at 2:00 AM and told me he wanted his mommy, i knew i was in over my head! but yes, time. and prayer and laughter and mercy. these bring us out. and my older got his driver’s license three weeks ago….
This. Is. Beauty!!!
This place of surrendering fears and choosing of Trust.
This is worship!
So. INCREDIBLY. Beautiful!!!
How wonderful!
Cxx
good reminder this morning. surrender and rest…such a hard thing for this person who wants a checklist of how to do it all right.
I needed to read this today! Thanks so much.
I sure needed to read this as I am not putting my kids on a bus to school this week like most of the sane mothers around me. This is the week that I question every single decision I’ve made as a mom and whatever ability I thought I had to raise and educate kids. I’m pretty sure all the meltdowns happening here are my own…
but it’s not about me is it?
thanks for the encouraging reminder today, Christie (and Lisa-Jo).
with these simple words you’ve made trust simple and rest easy… simply comforting!!!
This is so beautifully written, and so very true. Thank you! I agree totally – in His great love, God allows us to experience the good and the hard in mothering. All for the purpose of drawing us closer to His heart, and teaching us where to go to find real rest.
Thank you. I’ve been having trouble with my son, and he is young. I wonder, how can I not handle a boy that’s only a kindergartener? I’ve been going over all the parenting books, suggestions from friends, and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I feel like I have failed because of how hurtful he is to me. I question my discipline methods, and I don’t know what to do differently. I compare myself to other mothers. I hate feeling that I must be the problem, but I don’t know how to fix it.
Thank you for sharing that you felt the same way because I definitely feel alone in this struggle most of the time.
Jennifer, you are not alone! But, wow, I have been there. The loneliness and self-doubt is so intense. I never knew anyone who struggled with their young children the way I struggled with my daughter but it does happen, and it is NOT your fault. I’d love to hear from you if you’d like to “talk” more.
Thank you so much for honestly sharing. You will never know how much I needed to hear these exact words today.
I love this Christie…
God who redeems.
God who gives rest.
God who gives hope.
God who changed hearts.
Yesterday was a really stormy day with a particular-one-I-love…and I wanted there to be a formula. I wanted the checklist to work. I want to turn to page 27….and find the answer.
But yes…this is so true…
In His time…I have to trust His time…and cling to Him while I’m trying to keep my head above the waves.
Wow, that last line really spoke to me. I don’t wake Him, I just lie down next to Him and find peace in Him. That’s so beautiful! I think so many times I try to wake Him – get Jesus to come to me and work in the way I think is right. But He wants me to go to Him and find rest in knowing that He already has it worked out. Thank you!
Christie –
So beautiful.
I feel like I’m speaking as if I’m some elderly lady to those of you who have small kids :) — I’m really just a little over my mid-forties, (but feel in my 60’s most of the time!) and I have 17, 15, and 13 yr olds. But here goes —- “How did you handle these terrible, explosive days? Why does my small child have so much power to hurt me?” Wow, that’s how I feel much of the time, even though mine are so much older. My kids aren’t so much explosive, but they end up hurting my feelings so much. Can’t tell you how lonely I feel sometimes because I feel like they could care less about me. Deep down I know they do love me, but there aren’t any love notes anymore and huge hugs – they want you away from them. You just have to look a little deeper to find the love. I’m asking God how to survive, thrive, and let go… My son started his senior year of high school this year. I know this year tears will be my only answer too when people ask me about my son. My sweet little cowboy turned into a silent teen (who looks more like a man) who only answers with “Yes”, “no”, and “I don’t know.” I know nothing about his life, and I dare not “interrogate” him because he will shut down more. But I have to accept that this time in his life will pass just like the explosive 2-yr-old stage. On his first visit home from college, I’m sure he’ll be talkative and happy. But right now, my emotions are like the wildly pitching boat you refer to. So touching about curling up next to a sleeping Jesus in the bottom of the boat – that’s all you can do. Thank you sooooo much!!!! Will visit you and follow!!!!
Cathy,
Thank you so much for sharing this! I had the teenage years at the back of my mind as I wrote my post. I was hoping someone would carry the conversation forward for Moms of older kids. I only pray I can remember what I’ve already learned when I enter those (most likely) rocky years. Praying you find rest in Him and that you can hold on till the day when your children are ready to write love notes again!
Thanks for responding. Just FYI – Don’t worry if you don’t remember what you’ve already learned when your kids get to be teens — Just like preschoolers, they’re all different! There’s no right answer :) I do remember all the notes and I thank God for those memories. I know He’ll help me hold on til they’re ready to write them again. Thanks so much.
Sobbing on my treehouse steps. Took a minute away from the sons because I am losing it today. I feel beaten and hurt and wrong and right and wounded all at once. I need to lay down there on the bottom of my motherhood boat and rest in Him. Your words today were like salve to my weary momma soul. The sun is shining out here while the Son is shining in your post today. Thank you. No words for what this has done for my momma heart today.
And your words have blessed me today, Danelle! I am blown away by the comfort and encouragement our God brings when we share our hurts with one another. Thank you.
Thanks you so much for sharing this post from your friend. It touched my heart. I had
a very strong self willed child and he now has two just like him. I have three daughters that have 7 year olds that are very strong willed and very smart. I know that Christ heals and will help us raise our children if we pray and ask for his help. I enjoy following your blog. Blessings to you and keep on enjoy the moments.
In this stormy season of just-turned-four and then in the simultaneous drenching of just-about-to-turn-two — I needed this. I needed this today in ways I cannot even express. It’s like a big giant rainstorm following me down the highway right now, our everydayness, where I find myself praying, just praying to not only get through it, but to get through it well. And be better for it. Thank you for this.
Wonderful. And timely for me as I start yet another year of homeschooling a child with ADHD and other challenges. I want it to be easier. But as you remind us here, what I NEED is His presence.
Yes, a WONDERFUL word. Amazing how time does heal. As I read this I remembered. I can definitely relate closely with these words. My own precious daughter is sixteen next week and the Lord is still healing us from the pain of many difficult childhood years. He is our faithful total redeemer… and I’m thankful.
Christie, Thank you for sharing these words. I know that I am on my own painful journey with my very own daughter at this moment in time and I ask that God give me patience every day. Thank you for not being the picture perfect mom that just smiles, but showing that you are a real woman, a real mom, and a real person who doesn’t tie everything up in a perfect bow. I have an immense amount of respect for you for being so real. Thank you.