Multitudes on Mondays: For Any Mom Who Has Ever Looked For God in the Laundry Pile
From the moment I cradled my first baby doll with sleepy eyes and pouty pink lips, I wanted to be a mommy. A little girl in love with babies, I asked for one each Christmas until I grew old enough to understand that Santa couldn’t help me and young enough to believe that my parents would never want to do that to give me one.
Once I stopped checking beneath the tree, I shifted my hope to the day when I’d have babies of my own. The particulars of my dream changed as often as my juvenile moods, but one detail remained. Whatever else I ambitioned to do, I wanted motherhood to be a part of the picture.
At twenty, I traded baby dolls for a bridal gown, embraced the newlywed adventure, and earned my college degree. With my husband Rob at my side, I ventured overseas and established my first classroom in a bright yellow boarding school nestled in the Alps. When Rob’s acceptance to medical school cut my international teaching career short, we headed home to chase my husband’s dream. Little did we know, we would soon collide with mine as well. We stepped foot on American soil just before a faint pink plus sign plunged us into parenthood.
I’d always planned to break the news with a candlelight dinner, my sleek black dress, and elegantly wrapped baby booties. However, my creative musings fled the instant I spied the yes on the pregnancy stick trembling in sync with my knocking knees.
Forgoing the black dress, I raced to the kitchen in my ratty pajamas and interrupted my husband’s quiet breakfast.
Like a maestro conducting a grand symphony, I waved the tell–tale stick in front of Rob’s face and jumped up and down with unharnessed excitement. I suppose I looked a bit like a little girl who had just discovered a baby beneath the Christmas tree. Because in some sweet way, I had.
Forgoing the black dress, I raced to the kitchen in my ratty pajamas and interrupted my husband’s quiet breakfast.
Like a maestro conducting a grand symphony, I waved the tell–tale stick in front of Rob’s face and jumped up and down with unharnessed excitement. I suppose I looked a bit like a little girl who had just discovered a baby beneath the Christmas tree. Because in some sweet way, I had.
The next nine months passed with tears—the happy, anxious, and I don’t even know why I’m crying kind; prayers— please let me live through labor, please let the baby be healthy, please don’t let me eat that whole box of ice cream again, and mood swings.
Is my butt spreading? What does “not really” mean? I just want this baby in my arms. I’ll never get this baby out. Don’t eat that in front of me; the smell is making me sick. Of course I’ll have another cookie; I’m eating for two.
Finally, after what felt like years, Lukas Andrew stormed our world with a howl. His nose was smashed. His eyes were swollen.His peeling skin was wrinkled and red. He was the most beautiful child I’d ever seen.
Without a doubt, God I felt God’s presence in that delivery room at 3 A.M. His grace was nearly palpable. His generosity indescribable.
When the nurse placed that swaddled sweet bundle in my arms, I was overwhelmed with the Lord’s love for me. I had no doubt He was holding me as I held the precious fruit of my womb. Motherhood tapped into a depth of love I’d never known. The moment my son’s tiny fingers clutched mine, I knew I’d lay down my life for him.
When the nurse placed that swaddled sweet bundle in my arms, I was overwhelmed with the Lord’s love for me. I had no doubt He was holding me as I held the precious fruit of my womb. Motherhood tapped into a depth of love I’d never known. The moment my son’s tiny fingers clutched mine, I knew I’d lay down my life for him.
Then we left the hospital and my miracle grew murky.
On the short car ride home, my precious son morphed into a terrifying tangle of hiccups and screams. I reached around the front seat and offered my tiny one a finger. Jostled his car seat. Patted his soft peach-fuzz head. Sang a quiet lullaby. But he only wailed louder. By the time we reached our small apartment our firstborn’s face was purple from distress. And my husband’s terrified countenance mirrored my own fear. Was this our new normal?
On one hand, life as a family of three was everything I’d dreamed it would be. We exchanged date nights for cheap take–out and swapped moonlit strolls for midnight feedings. We laughed over baby coos and gas–induced smiles. And we wondered what we’d done with ourselves before the arrival of our seven-pound gift. But on the other hand, motherhood was nothing like I’d imagined.
The novelty of self-sacrifice grew wearisome. Dirty dishes mounted. Exhaustion multiplied. And the One whom I had seen so clearly in the delivery room seemed to be hiding behind those poop-stained mountains of laundry. Or seeking solace in a quieter place, away from my newborn’s constant squeals and his mommy’s tears of frustration.
My silver-lined visions of motherhood were replaced with simpler dreams.
I fantasized about taking a shower before noon, going to the bathroom alone, and savoring an uninterrupted conversation with my husband.
I dreamed of date nights and Saturday morning sleep-ins. Long walks with girlfriends and stimulating banter with cohorts. But most of all, I dreamed of feeling as close to my Lord in my spit-up soaked reality as I had in that awe-swathed delivery room.
I used to make a habit of studying other moms. Listening to the way they talked to their children in the grocery store line, watching the way they chased their children through the park.
What I really wanted to ask them- any of them, all of them- was if they had seen God in the cereal aisle or spied him on the jungle gym. Had they figured out how to stay awake and pray during that 2 A.M feeding or learned how to seek Him first as they wiped bottoms and faces and floors?
Nearly fourteen years have passed since my squealing firstborn turned my life-and my faith- upside down. But four children more and a thousand sleepless nights later, I have learned that God does not play hide and seek. He does not prefer delivery rooms to laundry rooms. Quiet afternoons to screeching colic nights.Through the ups and downs of motherhood, I have learned that if God is not in the mess of all this— in the dirty diapers and grocery store tantrums, in the backyard chasing and midnight pacing, then He is nowhere.
And since His very name means God-with-us, then He must be everywhere. Even in the ordinary moments of motherhood. Especially in the ordinary moments of motherhood.
I know because I’ve seen Him. I’ve seen Him in the crumbs beneath my table- sticky reminders of His daily provision. I know because I’ve seen Him in my husband’s tender smile as the man I love dances with our little girl on the dirty kitchen floor. I know because I’ve seen Him in the muddy fingers that have been creating masterpieces from the slop of spring. Our God of glory lingers long in our grit. And His presence changes everything.
If, like me, you’ve ever wondered if God can be found in a mother’s daily grind- in the cuddling and the cooking, the potty training and the tantrum taming-then you’re going to love the new MOPS devotional Always There: Reflections for Moms on God’s Presence.
This beautiful book is written by fifty-two women like you and me who have cried out to God from the trenches and found Him to be faithful…in the middle of the night, the middle of the mundane, and the middle of the mess.
I’d be honored if you’d stop back tomorrow and discover how you can win this delightful compilation of hope and encouragement. I’ll be giving this book away before the week is over, and I’d love to put one in your hands!
This beautiful book is written by fifty-two women like you and me who have cried out to God from the trenches and found Him to be faithful…in the middle of the night, the middle of the mundane, and the middle of the mess.
I’d be honored if you’d stop back tomorrow and discover how you can win this delightful compilation of hope and encouragement. I’ll be giving this book away before the week is over, and I’d love to put one in your hands!
The Overflow: “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” –Psalm 139:7-10
Still counting my FIRST 1000 gifts… won’t you join me?
976. The girls hauling water from their homemade well, baby dolls on their hips
977. “thanks, Mom!”… my firstborn’s consistent gratitude when I serve a hot meal
978. 9800 women praising God together at Living Proof Live…
a small glimpse of Heaven?
a small glimpse of Heaven?
979. Cramming in 1000s of words with an old friend.. finally face to face!
Marveling at how God has kept our hearts knitted together over the miles
and the years.
Marveling at how God has kept our hearts knitted together over the miles
and the years.
980. The Word of God, active and alive!
981. A GREAT MAN to come home to
982. Protection from the storms
983. Muddy footprints across the kitchen floor…proof of children who can
run and play
run and play
984. Immanuel… God with me.. as I fold laundry in the quiet of the midnight hour
985. A daddy who dances with his little girls until the last song plays!
Lizzy’s last Father-Daughter Dance.
Lizzy’s last Father-Daughter Dance.
986. My man, fresh from a delivery, standing in scrubs on the sideline of the soccer field… racing from the miracle of new life to the miracle of OUR LIFE.
Linking with these beautiful grace seekers today…ann for 1000 gifts, l.l. for on, in, and around mondays, laura for playdates with god and jen for soli deo gloria
oh it brings me back to my baby and their time of coming into this world. I felt just as you did this overwhelming love from my Father that I had NEVER felt before. Boy, it sure is nothing like anything else is it? (smile) beautiful family, just beautiful!
Thank you for commenting on my blog. It is such a pleasure to meet you and to read your words. God is everywhere!
What a great reminder that we can find God everywhere. He doesn’t move, I just change my focus. I love your line, “Our God of glory lingers long in our grit.” Beautiful words. Thanks for sharing them.
Michelle
You captured my heart from sentence #1 and I drank in every.single.word! Written with beauty and grace, love and laughter, heart and soul. He is always there, isn’t He? To learn that early in life is a gift indeed!
What a beautiful reminder that God is with us in all of it. Thank you for reminding me. I only have two children and that seems impossible some days. I just became the MOPS coordinator next year for a group that meets here in Grand Junction, CO. Can’t wait to read that book. I wrote a diddy about laundry that will probably make you smile. Check it out if you want. Love your blog!! You so encourage me.
http://dkarambling.blogspot.com/2012/02/leaping-to-laundry-room.html
(laughing at my friend Amy Sullivan’s mere 5 loads of laundry)
Great post. And you’re right; He’s everywhere. It’s about having the eyes to see Him.
Beautifully captured Alicia. 🙂 How often I’ve had these same thoughts.
What a treat this was!
I loved reliving the pregnancy days with you —
and my heart rejoiced with: if God is not in the mess of all this— in the dirty diapers and grocery store tantrums, in the backyard chasing and midnight pacing, then He is nowhere.
Amen!! 🙂
I am so grateful that I found you through SDG — I will be subscribing. 🙂
Amen!!!!
All the books you recommend are awesome…I’ll have to read that one also! 🙂
I love your post…and of course…I never have dirty laundry! 🙂
Oh, my goodness, I knew I had to come over as soon as I read the title. What mom hasn’t? The laundry NEVER ends. Nor does He. Lovely, lovely post. You are a beautiful mamma with a beautiful family.
Yes, His presence does change everything…beautiful words tonight to meditate on as I drift off to dreamland (where the laundry piles are low and the floors are shiny)…
Glad you safely made it home to your GREAT man!!!!! I enjoyed those 1000s of words with you, too!!!! Thanks for making the effort 🙂
~Robin
What precious gifts! I hadn’t heard of that book…have to see if I can find it here in Belize.
Oh, love this post! I’d love to get my hands on that book, too!
You’re family is absolutely beautiful. I love how God plants so deeply the desires of our hearts, then rewards our obedience, patience and labor with them!
Perfect post for a mom who is staring down five (not exagerating!) loads of clean laundry on my floor right now.