I’ve walked two bleary-eyed children back to bed in the fading moonlight.
But today’s one of those days when I wish I could slow the clock.
Today’s one of those days when I wish that the pink fingers of daybreak would just refuse to stretch across the horizon for a few more hours.
Because even though I write about the thrash for joy and seeking His glory in the grit; even though I believe in passionate, purposeful living, and I’m crazy about the ones growing beautiful beneath my roof, sometimes I’d rather soak in the light of the moon than face the dawn of another day.
Sometimes, instead of opening my hands to a new day, I just want someone to take the day off my hands before it even begins.
Somedays, I want to trade the knock-knock jokes for a good book, exchange the carpools for a long walk along the ocean. I want to soak up sunsets instead of mopping up spilled milk, chase my own dreams rather than listen to my long-winded dreamers.
Somedays I just don’t want to run another lap in this race that requires all I’ve got and more.
And it’s on these days, the days when my heart feels like it has a slow leak and I don’t want to pour myself out empty, that I am reminded once again that motherhood isn’t a job, it’s an act of faith.
Motherhood is stepping into a new day and believing that Jesus is already waiting for us there.
It’s trusting that our holy Father can shine brightly through our holes, and believing that His strength is made perfect in weakness.
Motherhood is a daily decision to say yes to something that is totally beyond ourselves so that Jesus can show up in ways far beyond our dreams.
Motherhood is an invitation to bend low so His glory can rise; a call to death, so we can find life.
Motherhood isn’t about efficiency, it’s about sufficiency–Christ’s sufficiency.
It’s about admitting that we can’t do it all, but we can rest in the arms of the One who gave it all on Calvary’s cross.
For me. For you. For our children.
For every mother on the planet who longs for His grace to fill her gaps.
For every mother in the world who wonders before the sun rises if she can really face one more lunch-packing, shoe-tying, baby-crying day.
Motherhood isn’t about duty, it’s about desperation. It‘s imperfect women clinging to a Perfect Savior and believing that He is enough.
Even on a Monday morning as the sun dawns pink and pleased.
photo credits: billofthebirds.blogspot.com and http://redroiremoldtrig.blogspot.com/2011/05/free-oak-tree-clip-art.html