Some moms have little ones in our lives. We spend our time wiping snotty noses and soiled bottoms and, if you are like me occasionally wonder, “What on earth am I doing with my life?”
Some moms have big kids. We run from practice to lesson to errand after errand after errand, doing more socializing with other on-the-go parents than you even knew was possible. And while you are driving to yet another event, you might be wondering to yourself, “What on earth am I doing with my life?”
Some moms have older ones who are learning new skills, growing into new people, and when you are suddenly the recipient of an attitude, you might wonder like I do “What on earth am I doing with my life?”
Some moms have grown ones. You have done the dirtiest of jobs, you have survived the raging hormones, and you have made it to the other side. Now that maybe they don’t need you quite as much anymore, you might be wondering “What on earth am I doing with my life?”
From the moment of conception, a mother’s whole life changes. Even in those early months, what we eat, what we smell, what shoes we wear, are all effected by this new life. A good mother knows that her life is no longer about her. The plans she had can all change with a sick child, a crying baby, or a heartbroken teenager. And it’s a beautiful thing. It’s an exhausting, life encompassing, heart-wrenching, beautiful experience to be a mom. But more often than not, we are too close to see that. We are too caught up in the needs of the day that we can miss the wide scope of what God is doing with our motherhood.
I never knew how selfish I was until I became a mom. I never knew how angry I could be until I became a mom. I never knew how independent I wanted to be until I became a mom. And if I’m being honest, I haven’t come nearly as far as I wish I have in any of these areas. In my quiet moments, I vary between two extremes both asking the same question: “What on earth am I doing with my life?” On the one hand, my selfishness asks why I would give up independence and self-sufficiency to fetch snacks and discipline mouthy pre-teens all day. On the other hand, I wonder why the Lord would trust me with such a weighty responsibility to train the next generation of saints. Yet both of these extremes tend to look at the end product either in myself or in my children. Along with Solomon, both questions ask, “what gain has the worker from his toil?” (Eccl. 3:9)
In the midst of a discourse on the season of life in the book of Ecclesiastes, Solomon goes on to say that God accomplishes all things precisely as He means to. His sovereignty stretches from big things like life and death, down to much smaller things like clothes breaking and kissing booboos. Solomon said that God “has made everything beautiful in its time.” He said that all of these seasons of motherhood, of life in general, are all part of God’s great plan.
But what if the end result is not all that matters? What if who I am, who you are, in the midst of the daily grind is equally as significant? The wisest man that every lived goes on:
“There is nothing better for [man] than to be joyful and to do good as long as they life; also that one should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil – this is God’s gift to man…. There is nothing better than that a man should rejoice in his work, for that is his lot.” (Eccl. 3:12-13,22)
Notice that on in this final great sermon, the Preacher, as he is called, doesn’t reflect on his accomplishments to say what he has done right, nor does he reflect on all his failures to says what he has done wrong. He could have said a lot about both. Instead, his great wisdom considers the estate of the heart while at work. He says be joyful. He says take pleasure. He says do the work – the toil – and consider that very work as God’s gift to man. Not the product or accomplishment, but the work itself as God’s gift.
We forget that work was created before the fall. The womb that would bear the whole world was created before Eve took that first bite. The plan of God was always motherhood. The sleepless nights, the changing relational dynamics, the toil of keeping children alive, was in mind from the very beginning of humankind. The difficulty and strain surely increased in the world after sin, but the work of motherhood was included in what God called “very good” about His creation. We even get a hint into the parental nature of God in that interaction of Adam & Eve after having succumbed to temptation. Yet even the all-knowing Heavenly Father was content to be in the moment with His children and do the hard work of parenting. Knowing full well the end result of their sin and the need for God the Son to suffer on their behalf, our good God gave us an example of rejoicing in His work.
I’d like us to think about just a few ways in which we can practice such enjoyment of motherhood:
1. Keep eternity in mind.
Motherhood doesn’t last all that long in the grand scheme of things. I’ve been a mom for 11 years. Some of you have been a mom for more than 50 years. And yet we can all remember that first day the same. The exhaustion and chaos and uncertainty. I remember looking at my baby then looking at my husband and asking, “What have we done?” In some ways, it feels like a million years ago and it also feels like just yesterday. It’s funny how time works like that. Yet as I read the pages of history, my time being a mother is not all that long. Millions of people have lived and died before I started this length of my journey. People will continue long after I’m gone. In the light of eternity, what I make for dinner tomorrow night doesn’t matter all that much. The spotlessness of my bathtub (or lack thereof) doesn’t make all that much of a difference.
Life is not made up of that many big moments. But a legacy is rarely made by big moments. Eternity is composed of a million tiny moments. So today, I can practice enjoying the moment by valuing the things that matter and not fretting over the things that don’t. I can ignore the laundry for just one more night and I can sing one more song before bedtime. I can have one more hard conversation about honoring the Lord and share my secret stash of chocolate. I can remember that one day, I won’t be around, and I want my kids to know my love for them in words and actions.
2. Ride the waves of seasons.
It’s certainly easier said than done, but recognizing and appreciating the uniqueness of each season of life is how the world was intended to be. The dead of winter gives way to new life each spring. Sometimes, that’s how motherhood can feel too. There are days that I’m too tired from yesterday to even want to get out of bed, but little fingers prying my eyes open remind me of new life. New mercies start even earlier than my first cup of coffee (Lamentation 3:22-23). There are times when mothering is amazing. There are times when it makes you feel like death. There are times when it feels like you are never going to be left alone again. There are times when you feel like you will never be needed again. And each of these may be true for a time. But the funny thing about seasons is that they tend to be cyclical. That’s just how they were created.
So if you feel like you’re dying, keep holding on; the sunshine of a summer of amazing mom moments may be right around the corner. If you are soaking in the warmth of love and compassion from your kids right now, enjoy it because dark days may be ahead. Our hope is not in the change of the season, but in the constancy of the One who doesn’t change. Our awesome God is not temperamental like our toddlers or our teenagers but is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). It is His constant love, care, and sovereignty that is a sure anchor when waves of the motherhood seem overwhelming. I will not be capsized; I will not be undone because the One who doesn’t change will be with me when it feels like everything is only always changing.
3. Trust in a God who Sees
In one of His final sermons before the cross, Jesus warns His disciples that service to the Lord is often overlooked. He says it’s rarely exciting and generally looks ordinary. It looks like feeding, watering, comforting, clothing, and nursing. Sounds like a description of a mom to me. But Jesus says that this holy service he described was not in order to achieve anything at all, but merely as a reflexive nature of the person who performed such acts. That these acts of kindness towards “the least of these” was simply the right thing to do and it did not go unnoticed by God. In Matthew 25:37-40, Jesus reminds us that those reflexive acts of compassion are seen and will be rewarded by Him, even if no one else ever sees them, ever acknowledges them, or ever appreciates them. God sees and that is enough.
Horatio Spafford wrote, “Whatever my lot Thou has taught me to say, ‘It is well with my soul’.” We can all sing this Sunday morning at church, but it’s a lot harder to sing this as we are changing bedsheets in the middle of the night. It’s a lot harder to fully embrace the lot that we have been given when it is not all butterfly kisses and trips for ice cream. Being a mom is hard. From all that I have gathered from older saints, it’s not that motherhood ever actually gets easier, it just changes the kind of hard. If we are constantly waiting for this difficult portion of the ride to be over, I think we will be miserable forever. I think it is here that we should take a lesson from the honeybees.
Like moms, honeybees are always on the go, constantly moving, doing, working. There is always more pollen to be gathered and always more chores to be done. Like moms, even the nicest honeybees can be misunderstood as aggressive because of their busyness. Like moms, their home can be sticky and have people coming in and out all the time. Like moms, their days are full of doing the same thing over and over and over again. Like moms, the work they put in to produce something is often for someone else. Like moms, they were uniquely designed by God for this work.
You and I were not only given this unique responsibility for the work of motherhood; we were designed for it. From the foundation of the world, at the creation of womanhood, our very design was for this toil of motherhood. Our great God has not only called us to it but equipped us for it. May we toil not just for the reward of contributing members of society or an empty house, but for the sake of the work and to the glory of the One who gave us this gift of motherhood.