My kid came and hugged me good night last night and put his nose up close to mine and peered at me through his glasses – “You’re a great mom,” he grinned up at me.
A great mom.
It’s funny how easy it is to believe the opposite.
My next-door-neighbor is becoming a second home for my boys. If they’re not at my house, they’re at hers. And she and I stood in her door way the other night as the leaves were blowing in and just shook our heads over the mystery of raising kids. This strange dance. This aching growth.
I’m no parenting expert.
You might be surprised how often I doubt myself. Or then again, maybe you won’t. Because you’re a mom too. And you know that self doubt comes with the territory.
So if you asked me my best parenting advice – it would be this.
The best thing you can do for a child is to encourage their mother.–-> click to tweet.
Remind her that she matters and that as exhausted or defeated as she might feel some days, she matters.
Moms matter.
Moms matter because they feed us the good stuff. Great big helpings of who we could become. They mix us up into themselves and knead us through with answers we may not want to hear and tears we do not want to cry.
Moms matter because they model courage before we are even old enough to recognize it. They get up in the thankless dark and offer bottles, chase away our fears, drive to work, wait on midnight homecomings and keep vigil over sick children to the second and third generation.
Moms matter because their words can crack or cement the foundation of who are – no matter how old we are.
Moms matter because they show us by doing. Their lives echo throughout ours and we will still hear the voice of their living long after they are gone.
Moms matter because they were made to matter.
And if you wish your mom didn’t matter so much. If you wish someone could soften the blow of her impact or soothe the ache of her loss. If you’re a mother who hasn’t figured out her motherhood, oh friend, I would rock you if I could. But instead let me offer my hand. For I would lead you to the One who has always said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.”
The Christ who was born of a woman, for a woman, from a woman. The Christ child who became the Christ man who spent his dying breaths still loving on his mother.
When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Dear woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home. John 19:26-27 (New International Version).
He knows what it is to love a mother. He knows what it is to lose a mother.
Moms matter because they matter to Him. In all their righteous and wretched vulnerability. So, on the hard, confusing days let Him be the one to rock you.
Because even grown ups need lullabies sometimes.
And a Friday free printable for all you reading through the Surprised by Motherhood book club with me?
Just right click on the image below to save. This is my all-time favorite South African recipe that is mentioned many times throughout the book – melktert (or milk tart in English) is served at pretty much any social gathering. Easy to make and even easier to eat – here’s the recipe for you to bake a moment of quiet into your day.
And if you need a deep, daily source of encouragement –> I can’t encourage you strongly enough to connect with my other online home, (in)courage – a community of women sharing their messy, broken, beautifully redeemed stories.
Love this! Easy to feel like we aren’t making a huge difference, always good to be reminded of how large a role mothers play.
I am a mother to two grown children and a grandmother to six grandchildren ages 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, and 15. And I often doubt how well I do especially since their step-mom does not work outside the home and she and my ex have much more money. I teach full time high school English and am on my 25th year of dealing daily with fibromyalgia. Osteo arthritis has only had residence in my body for 10 years. I suffer great fatigue and have to balance out everything or I get quite sick. I don’t call like I should and can ‘t do overnights except in the summers, but I will drop everything and be there if they need me. One of the best things I can do for my son is to have him and his three kids over for dinner and fix one of his favorite casseroles from when he was a kid. For my daughter it is mailing her favorite candy, some nuts for her husband, and bagels for her children in Texas.
I guess part of being a good mother is figuring out these things and following through on them.
Loved this post, by the way. You say things so well.
Yes, you are right: I do matter. I had let myself believe the other day, that I was getting it all wrong. The straw that broke the camel’s back for me was biking with the kids to school in the 3 degree C weather (37.4 F) with 2/3 kids in sandals since their mama (yes, that’s me…) had not quite gotten it together enough to buy them new running shoes. In amidst the craziness of fall schedule, combined with wanting them to enjoy outside weather for as long as possible during after school times, rather than spend an hour in a store, and with the seemingly endless to-do list, I had not yet purchased appropriate fall footwear. *gasp* What will the {teachers, other moms, dads} think of me??!? I seemed to be barely keeping my head above water last week. And then by Friday as we made our way through the frosty morning ride, I felt ashamed about my lack of planning and preparation for cooler weather. In the end, I know that my kids probably didn’t really care. And perhaps I can chalk it up to ‘growing them up to be hardy Canadians’. Or perhaps it will one day become good fodder for childhood memories. “Remember the time that mom hadn’t yet bought running shoes for us and we were biking to school in sandals when it was barely above 0?” Anyway, I can smile tonight knowing that I tucked them all in with prayers and bought them shoes over the weekend. :) Always love reading your posts Lisa-Jo. Such an encouragement – thank you.