dear mama,

Motherhood. 

Simultaneously the greatest challenge and the biggest blessing. Both the hardest and the holiest thing. Overstimulating and stretching and sanctifying. But also bubbling over with effervescent love and laughter. Evoking all the feelings, from "mom rage" to "mom guilt" to deeper love than you ever could have imagined, sometimes all in the same hour.

And nothing prepares you for it. No matter how many books you read or podcasts you listen to or how many times you watched your friends become moms or experienced your own mom mothering you your entire life, you never know quite what it's like until you experience this cataclysmic, paradigm-shifting, identify-shaking, completely-world-rocking transition for yourself. 

Nothing prepares you for the intense experience of childbirth or the postpartum hormones or what it's like to function on only intermittent sleep. Nothing prepares you for the crushing weight of responsibility for the survival of another human being. Nothing prepares you for watching your heart crawl and then walk around outside your body and knowing complete protection is not ultimately in your control.

Nothing prepares you for the "who even am I anymore" questions. For the enormity yet normalcy of this role, which is unlike any other you've ever taken on. For how you felt like you had your life pretty together in other seasons, but now life feels so much more chaotic and unpredictable and NOISY. There never seem to be enough hours in the day to get the dishes or laundry 100% done or the house spotlessnessly clean, let alone time to do things that feel more life-giving to you quite as often as you'd like. Yet, somehow, you're also hastening the minutes until bedtime so you can take a break. 

Nothing else makes you fluctuate quite so much between "I'm exhausted" and "Am I doing enough?" Questions of "purpose" and "success" arise. 

My husband shared this article with me last night, and this line really resonated with me:

"I wish we loved the strength it takes for a woman to become a wife and a mother. We marvel at her physical strength when she births a child. But we forget what invisible strength she shows when she lays down her life for her home every day after that. Social media spends all its energy telling women to remember who they are, to fight for their sacred spaces, to become the women they want to be. All things that feel confusing when you’re holding a newborn baby and learning to forget your self-centeredness, to allow others into your personal space, and to become the woman that you are becoming and not who you thought you’d be."

I'm not who I thought I'd be. I feel kind of guilty admitting this, but being a mom wasn't at the top of my life goals list. I remember my aunt telling me recently how I used to say (when I was probably about 12) that I didn't want to get married or have kids; I just wanted lots of cats and horses (yeah). While marriage has always been a desire (whether 12-year-old me voiced that or not), babies weren't something I longed for. So maybe my motherhood journey has looked different, at least in part, for that reason. Maybe it's because I got married and starting having kids later than a lot of other people do, so it felt like a bigger role shift. I thought I knew who I was. I thought I had my life under control. 

God knows exactly what we need, though. There's probably nothing else on this earth that would test me so thoroughly in the area of control or order or independence or self-sufficiency. I'd done other hard things. Lived on my own overseas. Experienced rejection and loss. But nothing broke me quite like motherhood. Nothing pushed me so far beyond my own limits. Nothing else has ever challenged my sense of self-centeredness. As altruistic as I probably previously thought myself, I was able to make it all about me as much or as little as I wanted. Until I held a little 7.5 pound, entirely-dependent-on-me human in my arms. 

You know, I had so many other intentions for this Mother's Day post. Biblical references linking Eve to Mary. Reflections on the Proverbs 31 woman (partially because I read that passage the other day and finally fully felt the "mom guilt" a friend who was a mom long before I was said she felt when reading that). But maybe I just need to let this post be what it's turning into: A reflection on the joys and struggles of motherhood that hopefully someone else can relate to and be encouraged by. 

As someone recently said to my husband (about something totally different), sometimes it's nice to talk to a "soldier in the same regiment."

So, from one "soldier" in this "regiment" to another, here are a few things motherhood has been teaching me: 

1. It's a season. As Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, "To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven." There have been many seasons in my life. College. Living overseas. Seminary. Singleness. Newlywed season. Newborn season. Toddlerhood. Some day (Lord willing) there will be many other seasons and stages before this life is through. Every season has it's joys and it's challenges. Advantages and disadvantages. Each season is a "fiery furnace" in it's own right, refining us and our faith in different ways. Every season has its share of beauty, even if some seasons feel more like surviving than thriving. And you know what? Not every season has to be your favorite. Winter is not my favorite. But I can still find beauty and coziness in Christmas lights and hot tea and snow. Some seasons you have to lean a little harder on the Lord to learn to be content in all circumstance (Phil. 4:11-13). And that's ultimately better for your soul than if every season were a "summer" one. And you know what else? These days are precious. I hated when people would say "the days are long but the years are short" when I had my first child. But it's true. These days can be laborious and monotonous and full of conviction and repentance. But they are also a priceless gift. If only we have eyes to see it.

2. Speaking of which, I was talking to a dear friend a few months ago about "is it okay that this season's just not my favorite?" and she gave me some really good advice. First, make sure you're staying in God's Word. Easier said than done with the there-are-never-enough-hours-in-the-day issue I mentioned earlier, right? But God's Word is "living and active" (Hebrews 4:12). It's daily bread (Matt 4:4). Secondly, be in community with other moms. You're not alone in the things you're feeling and experiencing, and it's good to be reminded of that. And lastly, find something that makes you feel like you again. A consistent time to do something that's just yours. A hobby or a ministry or a part-time job. (I know when moms work full-time, there's a different balance to be struck there. Again, advantages and disadvantages. It's a lie from the enemy that we were ever meant to have it all. We can't. Our time and capacity are limited. Because we're human, and that's not a bad thing. Whole other blog post on that someday, maybe :)) And you know what? Since that conversation and taking her advice, I have genuinely come to love this season more than I ever thought possible in the postpartum, survival-mode haze I had been in for so long. 

Okay, I think that's all I have for now. Thanks for hanging with me as I externally process this difficult and wonderful role over which I and so many amazing, brave women have been given stewardship. 

I'm so thankful for the influential moms in my life. 

For my own mother, who worked part-time and then later full-time and built a decades-long career, but still (as my grandmother likes to remind us) always made time to get down in the mess of toys and whatever else was surely strewn across the floor to play with us. Thank you for loving me so selflessly...for letting me try (and fail) at different things...for showering me with more material and experiential blessings than I ever deserved...for giving me a happier, simpler, purer childhood than so many ever know. 

For my mother-in-law, who I have grown to understand, love, and respect more and more with the passing years, especially after living for two years in her homeland. Thank you for making a safe, stable place for your military family wherever you moved. Thank you for your diligence in teaching your children (and husband) your Dutch language and culture.

For my friends who became mothers long before I did. Thank you for letting me into your lives and homes and giving me a glimpse into the holy ground of marriage and motherhood. For welcoming me in as a single and coming alongside me as a new (and terrified) mom as I stumbled my way through. 

For all of the women who have "mothered" me in the faith, pointing me to Christ. In the end, there's no higher calling than that. 

Moms are superheroes. 

Happy Mother's Day!!