You’re such a good mom, they say with admiration. Teach me, their eyes say. Share your wisdom or your secret strategy to raising such great kids.
I take a breath, smile, and thank them, telling them that truly any goodness they see must come from the Lord. Though true and meant from my heart, these comments only seek to elevate a false sense of my motherhood. As they walk away, I lean on a table for strength, the pressure of the sanctity they have bestowed upon me stealing my breath and making my step falter. I wish they could see how I see them; their joy, their youthfulness, their creativity and energy in mothering.
I am no saint. Oh, I am attempting to get there, but trust me I am not even close. This is not a false humility. Each one of us can look within and know the depths to which we are steeped in sin. Those parts come easily to mind when we speak the words, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the words and my soul shall be healed.”
That healing? That is what I crave. That is what I need. That is what drives me to be better. I know my identity and walking in it takes a surrender to His will that pushes away and purifies any of my desires to the point of bending me low. But low is where I want to be. For Him, I need to be on my knees.
The eight children I am blessed to call my own do not make me more holy than the dear friend who holds one child close to her heart. The two wheelchairs that are parked beside my children’s beds at night do not make me more holy than the mother who quietly suffers as her child struggles with depression and anxiety. Caring for them challenges me; at times, it can be a near occasion of sin with how much it demands of me.
How often I am tempted to listen to the thoughts of weariness, frustration and surrender that permeate my thoughts. Our adoption journey, my battle with cancer, our decision to homeschool. none of these make me more of a saint. Please do not put me upon that pedestal. Do not place anyone there. Only God should be elevated.
Each of us has a journey toward sanctity and each one is unique to whom the Lord is calling us to be. In essence, in staying true to our unique path of sanctity, we are being formed more closely to who God has created us to be. He even paves out the way for us, with our suffering. Instead of pedestals, perhaps we should offer honest recognition that the journey is hard.
Parenting of any type, any style, is crazy beautiful and agonizingly difficult. So many of us look upon others with rose-colored glasses thinking they must have the secret recipe for parenting. We cannot possibly see behind their doors, inside their hearts. But surely we all know the reality. It’s unspoken but universally known.
I am in awe of the Lord’s goodness. I praise Him for his steadfastness. His trust, His faith in me, and His provision for my family over the years are endless and deep, and for that, it is Him who I choose to elevate, Him who I will emulate, and Him who I will place upon the pedestal saying You are such a good, good Father.
To read more of MaryBeth Eberhard’s writing, visit her website and subscribe for updates at www.marybetheberhard.com.
