Multitudes on Mondays: What Makes Motherhood So Hard…
An ice storm fences us in on Sunday morning.
So we trade our trip to church for a trip downstairs, and we gather in the basement for family worship.
Hair wet from morning showers, we forgo perfection and just welcome Jesus with song and dance.
Firstborn worships on his drums, and little girls groove as their brother adds the beat to that Toby-Mac song they love.
I try to sing, too, but my eyes keep falling on those hands, long and lean, wrapped around the drum sticks.
Wasn’t it just yesterday that those hands hauled all the pots and pans out of my kitchen cupboards and drummed me to insanity with wooden-spoon rhythms?
When did those fingers grow bigger than mine?
Little brother grabs a homemade tambourine and adds a synchronized jangle to our cacophony of praise.
I laugh at my brown-haired boy’s wiggle worship, and I try to memorize the unscripted way he moves with runaway joy.Because I know there won’t be a repeat sign at the end of this stanza.
And lately, I’ve been thinking, this is what makes motherhood so hard...
I want to savor these notes and delight in all of the imperfect harmony.
But the rhythm keeps changing, and the cadence never slows, and some days my heart can’t keep up with the quickening tempo of time.
But the rhythm keeps changing, and the cadence never slows, and some days my heart can’t keep up with the quickening tempo of time.
Somedays I want to slow the song and sing this verse again.
The girls twirl across the room.
Littlest one leaps into my arms.
I nuzzle my head to her hair and I hold her long.
But my drummer keeps playing, gaining speed with each beat.
And my ballerina wants to keep dancing, not linger in my arms.
So I kiss the top of her head and release her to whirl happy across the floor, faster and faster and faster.
She blurs like all of my weeks and months and years.
I offer her an arm to steady her wobbling frame.
But she laughs, leaps out of my reach, and falls on the floor in a dizzy heap.
Then I raise my empty arms and ask Jesus to help me savor each and every beat of this ever-changing song.
The Overflow: Your love, God, is my song, and I’ll sing it!
-Psalm 89:1, The Message
So thankful for these sweet notes in my song this week….
1795. Hannah’s “camel challenge” and the way she’s constantly on the look out for ways to serve.
1796. 6 girls gathered around the table on Fri night sharing the ways they’ve seen Jesus this week.
1797. “I found JESUS!”– baby Jesus sitting on top of the Wii— the adventure continues!
1798. Hannah’s book upturned and open in the big leather chair.
1799. Liz and Hanna painting in the craft room at 9pm… sleepover creativity!
1800. A breakfast date with Maggie at Windmill Cafe.
1801. Rob taking the boys on a Friday night date- pizza and pins.
1802. Hannah’s smile lighting up the stage as she dances before the Lord– my favorite recital of the year.
1803. A dance instructor who loves Jesus and delights in little dancers 🙂
1804. Making 100- day hats with Josh and his kindergarten class.1805. The ice storm that binds us and blesses us with an impromptu family worship service in the basement.
Happily linking with Ann for multitude mondays, laura for playdates with God, Jen for soli deo gloria, and a few new places for the new year–The Better Mom, The Mom Initiative, Titus 2sdays,
I think after a while, the only thing that we can count on in this walk of motherhood is that the path will always be changing! Glad we can cling to the ONE who NEVER changes!
Beautiful illustration: the cadence is always changing…that is what makes motherhood so hard. You think you have it figured out and then whoop there it goes.
Keep up the God work.
It’s all so fleeting, isn’t it. Praying that we can slow down and savor together.
Oh I think you just punched the air out of my chest. I get this. I really get this. I’m tempted to run into my girls’ room right now and wake them up just so I can hug them one more time today. But of course that would be insane – they’re finally sleeping! Hugs to you and your beautiful orchestra, Alicia.
This blog makes me glad today! Thanks.
I think it’s wonderful that God interrupted your routine–like an unexpected snow day–and gave you the opportunity to worship Him so intimately, so perfectly with your sweet family. Treasure that in your heart, Alicia–as I know you will. And thanks SO much for giving us a peek into that sacred family time too. It made me smile!
Alicia, this was so good for my heart today. This line here: “She blurs like all of my weeks and months and years.” Oh dear one, how I know this. You are right, the rhythm, the cadence always changes — maybe partly so we can never hold with too tight a grip. I feel the pain and the joy and gratitude of your post, and I am living it with you. Bless you, dear mama.