Sunday: Eternity

Mothering has taught me: Raising children is of eternal worth.

I love movies with larger than life stories, ones that take you on a journey, and include huge obstacles that are eventually overcome. I love it when a film leaves me with this feeling that although the movie is over, it never really ends. Movies are great movies to me if there is a legacy left behind.

Frodo will always be remembered as the hobbit who destroyed the ring. Mikey from The Goonies has a story so grand that it'd be passed down throughout the generations. Willow...who could ever forget his courage and heart, so much bigger than his height! Don't even get me started on The Labyrinth, James & The Giant Peach, The NeverEnding Story, The Secret of Moonacre, Princess Bride....

When I step back and really think about my family, over generations, the extension of our tree, Finn being of the same blood as my Grandaddy, Steven's Granny, then I begin to feel the same way I do while I'm watching one of those adventures unfold on the television screen. Because in continuing our family line there's the ability to create traditions that will carry over for years and years, the venture of exploring everyday happenings and explaining how they point back to God our Creator, power to stop generational sin, the gift of sharing the Gospel in the intimate setting that home provides.

"The Lord knows the days of the blameless, and their heritage will remain forever" Psalm 37:18

All of the toil, the unchecked items on the checklist, the errands and chores are meaningless and shy in comparison with today. Because today I got down on the floor to laugh with my son, I sat in the sun with him and described the changing seasons, listened to happy silver-haired musicians pluck the banjo, found Spot again in the basket, ate applesauce, laughed at the dogs jumping to snatch pieces of tomato out of the air, whispered Gospel truths while sleepy eyes traced the movement of my mouth, rocking back and forth back and forth in the dim-lit nursery..."I love you so much Finn, I am so proud of you...and the best part is God loves you even more."

"Do not labor for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you." John 6:27

Mothering has taught me that those moments ring out into eternity.

Mothering has taught me that investing in my son is lasting.

Mothering has taught me that I am a part of the greatest, never-ending adventure.

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you..." 1 Peter 1:3-4

Mom, I hope you know the incredibly significant role you play in my life. Thank you for standing beside me, always encouraging me even when I didn't understand, knowing that one day your daughter would become a woman and a mother of her own. I'm sorry for the countless times I've forgotten what a blessing you are. I'm so delighted that you're Finn's grandmother, that you were there for his first breath, and that he will carry parts of each of us throughout his life.

Mom, Happy Mother's Day!

Allison

Saturday: Marriage

...I understand that there are countless single mothers (and fathers) with varying situations. Please don't read these words and think that I am denying your role as your child(ren)'s mother. I cannot imagine carrying the task alone, you are strong and beautiful! And God's gift of marriage is my hope for you.


Mothering has taught me: protect marriage.

mar·riage

 

[mar-ij] 

noun 

...only God's inerrant Word can define this mystery. (Seriously, I looked it up and the definitions weren't fitting.)
But I do love what Shakespeare wrote about it...

"God, the best maker of all marriages,Combine your hearts in one." -William Shakespeare, Henry V

I remember the first time I heard John Fooshee (great friend & lead pastor at Redeemer Community Church) tell us that he loved Lindsay more than his kids. 

"I would set Sterling down in his crib, look into his eyes, and say 'Sterling, your mother is more important to me, we're going to spend some time alone together.'"

Does John not love his son? Of course he does, he loves his son so much that he would tell him that he loves Lindsay more. 

Why did this strike me as unsettling, uncomfortable? Maybe it's because I live in a society where divorcing a spouse is continuously accepted, while divorcing parental relations with children are rejected.

If I think back, I can come up with countless examples of parents loving their children more than their spouse, but I have to really spend time in thought to bring to the surface any examples of the opposite.

When Finn was brand new, I was challenged to go on a date with my husband, leaving our baby behind sometime within the first two weeks of his life. 

It was hard, I worried throughout our date, but I did it. I knew that I couldn't get lost in my role as a mother and forget the unity that Steven and I share. I had established, during my pregnancy, that we wouldn't become a family when Finn arrived. We were already a family, Steven, Bear, Banjo, and me, before he was born. Finn did not create our family, he entered in to our family.

"...the greatest overall influence you will have on your children will not come in your role as an individual parent, but in your joint role as husband and wife."*

I had to remember that Steven and I had become one flesh...

"...A man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh." Genesis 2:24

What relationship on this earth is more unifying than being of the same flesh? If I love any person more than my husband then I am living out of the bent of my sinful heart and not into the perfect design of my Father.

It makes sense that on the days when I choose my role as mother over my role as wife, that I would feel unstable, anxious, weak, scared, and uncomfortable. I sometimes wonder if Finn feels it too? 

"A healthy husband-wife relationship is essential to the emotional health of children in the home. When there is harmony in the marriage, there is an infused stability within the family. A strong marriage provides a haven of security for children as they grow in the nurturing process. Healthy, loving marriages create a sense of certainty for children. When a child observes the special friendship and emotional togetherness of his parents, he is more secure simply because it isn't necessary to question the legitimacy of his parent's commitment to one another."*

I want to fight for the unity between me and Steven. I want to kiss and flirt, laugh and slap Steven's butt in front of Finn. I want Finn to proclaim "Ewwwww, sick!" when he's in third grade and Steven and I are being disgustingly smitten with one another, because I know, inside Finn's heart, he doesn't have to wonder if his parents are still in love. I want to give more to my marriage so that Finn will grow up knowing that marriage is right and true, full of chaos and struggle, yes, but saturated with the ever-present, incomparable love of a jealous God. That the promise of true marriage can survive, in a world that seeks to tear it apart, and that one day, he will know Christ in his other half, his helpmate, and God will nudge his heart: Finn,"this at last is bone of your bones, and flesh of your flesh".**

Mothering has taught me that it is more loving to serve my husband first.

Mothering has taught me that when I love Steven more than Finn our family is stable.

Mothering has taught me that I am not alone in this parenting journey, but that I get to grow in it with my best friend and partner.

Mothering has taught me that my husband and I are one flesh, and that no one will know me, complete me, like my husband, my gift.

Mothering has taught me that one day, our son will leave us and be united with a beautiful woman.

Mothering has taught me that our son is a reflection of our unity; Steven and I together in one beautiful boy.

Mothering has taught me to strive for the moments when I can look at Finn and truthfully say "I love your father more."

Allison

*Ezzo, Gary. On Becoming Baby Wise.

**Genesis 2:23

Friday: Privilege

Mothering has taught me: Raising children is a privilege.

priv·i·lege

[priv-uh-lij, priv-lij] 

noun

1. a right, immunity, or benefit enjoyed only by a person beyond the advantages of most.

2. a special right, immunity, or exemption granted to personsin authority or office to free them from certain obligations or liabilities.

3. a grant to an individual, corporation, etc., of a special rightor immunity, under certain conditions.

4. the principle or condition of enjoying special rights or immunities.

In the days that followed Finn's arrival I remember driving in my car, a newborn crying in the backseat, and being sick to my stomach with the mourning of a life I once knew. I felt a burdensome fog cloud the view of my future.

Throughout the past nine months I've been battling between living for myself and losing my life for His(God's) sake. 

 It's a great and mysterious growth I've experienced since becoming a mother. The initial shock of such a large transition matched with my insecurities about becoming a mother at my young age, early in my marriage, and with no knowledge of caring for a little human created a rough starting point for my motherhood journey.

But, over time and with a perspective that argues that my life is not about comfort, pleasure, or certainty, my heart is being transformed.

In the months that preceded our marriage, Steven and I heard lots of discouraging comments and "jokes" from others. 

"Ooh the old ball and chain, eh?" (seriously, how long is this expression going to stick around?)

"Just wait, that won't last forever"

"Are you sure you don't want more experience? Education? Financial stability?"

Statements surrounding becoming a mother haven't been all that different. 

"Don't you feel weird?"

"Here's this birth control..." "Did you have a problem with hormonal birth control?" "This birth control has virtually no hormones." "You're not wanting to get pregnant yet, correct?" "Hmm, sounds like you might need to get on birth control." Birth control." Hormonal contraceptives?" "The pill."

"No, no no you can't have kids yet, you're so young!"

"Well, make sure you and Steven do everything you want to do together before your baby gets here."

"You'll never sleep again!"

"Oh, they must've gotten pregnant before their wedding then, since they've barely been married long at all!" (Someone who had either no understanding of the gestational period of a human baby, or no concept of mathematics.)

I was slammed with an attitude perfectly described as this....

"Children rank way below college. Below world travel for sure. Below the ability to go out at night at your leisure. Below honing your body at the gym. Below any job you may have or hope to get. In fact, children rate below your desire to sit around and pick your toes, if that is what you want to do. Below everything."*

My attitude wasn't much (if any) different.

Written in 1835 by John Kitto, a deaf father of ten children in the days before welfare:

"It may be safely predicated of any woman of Israel, if she had already many sons, that the gift of another would still be great joy to her....But again, how is it-owing to what vice in our social system, or in ourselves, does it happen-that there are among us tens of thousands, to whom the promise of children would be a sorrow and a trouble, rather than a comfort and a joy?**

I read this question yesterday:

"Doesn't it make you feel special that God has trusted you to nurture and protect this tiny morsel of helpless humanity?"***

Yes. Yes. Yes. I am overjoyed that the honest, bottom-of-my-heart answer is finally, yes.

I am learning that Finn is a piece of the Creator's workmanship, poetry spoken into existence, and that this treasured creation has been entrusted to me. Me! He's not a mistake, an ill-timed decision, not a nuisance, regret, or an irresponsible turn of events. He was thought out, anticipated, designed, and purposed. I am learning that Finn is my privileged opportunity to know God in a deeper way.

Mothering has taught me that being with Finn everyday is full of get-tos rather than have tos.

Mothering has taught me that I am ready to embrace child-rearing for the privileged enrichment that it is.

Mothering has taught me that Finn is a blessing, not an obligatory burden to be detested, he is the vessel through which I am being daily stretched & sanctified. 

Mothering has taught me that if I fail to realize these things, mine is a wasted life.

"See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven." Matthew 18:10

Be full of joy all you mothers!
You are privileged!

Allison

*Jankovic, Rachel. Motherhood is a Calling (And Where Your Children Rank).

**Kitto, John. Kitto's Daily Bible Illustrations.

***Pride, Mary. The Way Home.

Thursday: Hard Work

Mothering has taught me: Being a mom is hard work.

hard

[hahrd]

adjective, hard·er, hard·est,adverb, hard·er, hard·est, noun

adjective

1.

difficult to do or accomplish; fatiguing; troublesome: a hardtask.

2.

difficult or troublesome with respect to an action, situation,person, etc.: hard to please; a hard time.

3.

difficult to deal with, manage, control, overcome, or understand: a hard problem.

One Friday, a couple of weeks ago, I decided on a whim to go to Hobby Lobby. You need to understand that Hobby Lobby is about 30 minutes away without traffic. Also understand that making decisions on a whim don't normally work out well for me anymore, especially when it takes 20 minutes to get out the door with Finn. But it was Friday, and I wanted to do something for myself.

We get to our destination, spend way too much time debating over knobs and pulls, and buy random items I don't necessarily need. All the while forgetting that I had a little person with me who'd more than likely get sick of his momma's Friday fun spree.

Then I saw TJ Maxx, and thought it wouldn't hurt to go there too, even if Finn was hard to please.

I never get carts anymore, so there I was, balancing 7 dessert plates, a strainer, and a picture frame all while trying to maneuver a stubborn stroller with a grumpy little guy looking up at me in frustration.

I hate lines now more than ever. Eventually we got to the checkout. The employee was a long, blonde-haired young adult guy who looked extremely out of place in Kingsport, Tennessee. He belonged on the beach, he looked like a I have no money but am perfectly happy living in a shack, sleeping in the sand, and trying to surf all day kind of guy. Extremely sincere. Extremely slow. Extremely happy.

I was about to get irritated with him until he asked (in the most genuine sort of way) how my day was going. I probably blurted something out that was a little too honest, but he continued treating me with such genuine interest and encouragement that my mood started lifting. 

Finally, after he very carefully(slowly) wrapped up each.individual.dessert.plate. He said to me in a farewell manner...."Hey, I think  you're gonna be a really great mom!" (in a Ted Logan from Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure voice) Here's the trailer if you have no idea what I mean.

It was exactly what I needed. In those few words, this stranger had acknowledged that what I was doing wasn't easy. That I was in process. And that what I was learning and how I was working would positively influence my son.

Here's Finn earlier during out photo shoot right after he pulled his sock off.

Through experiences like this I've learned that child-rearing is anything but easy. It's two hands when you need five, washing bottles over and over, wrestling anxious little feet into socks, reading that book one more time, crouching and standing and crouching again, wiping noses and chins.....going to bed at night exhausted from a long day of accomplishment.

"'Oh how good,' said the person once, 'it is to work for God in the daytime, and at night to lie down under his smiles!'"*

And here he is fleeing the scene.

Still with the sock.

Mothering has taught me that this job is hard, and I can't do it on my own, but by God's matchless power and with the reminder that it's not what I do, but how & why I do it, I can daily, even in the small things, reflect God's glory.

"Our aim is to joyfully magnify Christ-to make him look great by all we do. Boasting only in the cross, our aim is to enjoy making much of him by the way we work."**

Mothering has taught me that the hard work it entails cannot be accomplished by my own strength. Mothering has taught me that the Gospel is not just helpful, but essential.

"Sweet is the sleep of a laborer, whether he eats little or much, but the full stomach of the rich will not let him sleep." Ecclesiastes 5:12

Allison

*Piper, John. Don't Waste Your Life. Quoting Jonathan Edwards' writing.

**Piper, John. Don't Waste Your Life.

Wednesday: Definition

Mothering has taught me: do not be defined by mothering.

def·i·ni·tion

[def-uh-nish-uhn] 

noun

1. the act of defining  or making definite,  distinct, or clear.

2.the formal statement of the meaning or significance of a word, phrase, idiom, etc., as found in    dictionaries.

3.the condition of being definite,  distinct, or clearly outlined.

If I said that being a mom hasn't changed me I'd be a liar. I apologize, I know I've said to various people multiple times "I'm the same person", but it's a lie. I don't feel any different, but I think what I should've been saying all along is that being a mom doesn't define who I am.

It's like this...Imagine I were a cod fisherman, or fisherwoman(?), and I loved cod. I talked about cod, dreamt cod, lived cod. Everything was cod. And then, unfortunately, cod one day disappeared. Would I be able to function without it? 

I've learned that I mistake passion for definition. I love it when people are passionate about something, and I love when I realize where my passion lies as well.

Am I passionate about being a mother? Heck yeah! It's one of my favorite things to talk about, learn about, and live out. But, I'm on a dangerous road if I let my passion for motherhood turn into my definition. Because, like the cod, passions change, fade, and are sometimes taken away.

When my role as a mother changes or when trials threaten to drastically affect my position as a mom, will I be standing on sinking sand?

I am a mother, but I'm so much more. I'm a wife, daughter, sister, wanna-be interior design expert, creator, time waster, movie fanatic, dusk lover, fantasy story enthusiast, and more recently, an early morning lap swimmer. I'm also a child of God, and when these aforementioned things fade or change, I am reminded that I can only allow this lasting truth to define me; it is my solid ground.

I have a sort of gauge that helps me measure how I'm doing in this area. If Finn is having a bad day-crying more than usual, fussy, unhappy, won't sleep-and that changes my overall demeanor...then I know I'm allowing motherhood to define me. This always works against me. When I'm living as a woman being defined by motherhood, I second-guess everything I'm doing. I question my abilities. I panic over small issues. I exhaust myself. I forget who I am and how Allison mothers and I begin trying to control things by figuring out how the "right way" to mother is lived out.

When I'm content(granted, a tad bit annoyed, who likes a whiny baby?) in who I am as a created woman of God during those days, then I can take it. I hope for Finn's attitude to get better, but I go on, knowing that the story being worked out in me is so much greater than my parenting abilities.

Mothering has taught me to continue learning who I am. What pains me and brings me joy, my weaknesses and strengths, my calling and purpose.

Mothering has taught me that I am a daughter of the King; the only definition that will always remain.

Oh, and let me not forget to mention...all of these lessons are continual, I'm being taught and re-taught every day.

Allison

Read Stephanie Nielson's Motherhood Essay winner here.

More mothering truths here.