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Now I just want to say before I continue this post is that I have learned something that truly helps people in need out...JUST DO IT! The statement "Call me if you need anything." Really doesn't help those that could use a little help, I mean if you just had a baby or had a death in the family, are you really going to call up a girlfriend and give her your dinner order...I think NOT!! It means so much to the friend when they get a random call saying that you will be over on Tuesday with a meal! Just a little tangent...okay...now back to the point of this post!
Well anyways since she brought the most delicious foods ever, we have since kept in touch through Facebook, and she has been a true encouragement. Going from pregnant, to quitting my current job, to becoming a mom, to possibly thinking about returning to work partime. Life can get overwhelming and seem out of control. Well out of the blue, I received an email from my friend, and it was exactly what I needed to hear, and I thought I would share it here. Believe me, I will be carrying this with me always...Thank you dear friend and I hope you get a chance to read this: Thank you!
It's entitled the Mother Letter
Dear Mother,
Some days, you will feel like a drudge. You will feel invisible to those around you, that the work that makes up your day is more than mundane—it is meaningless. You might entertain the notion you wouldn’t be missed as much as the clean socks and hot food that would fail to appear in the drawers and on the table.
Don’t believe it.
Some days, you will feel inconsequential. You will be tempted to believe no one hears you, that your children are fortressed inside some unseen sound-barrier and what you say doesn’t matter. And not just the I-said-to-go-and-get-your-jammies-on little stuff, but the obey-God-obey-your-parents big stuff.
Don’t believe it.
Some days you will feel like a failure. You will think you’ve messed up things beyond repair, that your children deserve better than what you give them. You may not consciously use this word, because our enemy is subtle in that way, but you will feel worthless. Because really, all of it—the attack on your work, your words—is an attack on your worth.
Don’t you dare believe it.
We all want to do this mothering-job well because we know it is important, and because it doesn’t feel good to do anything badly. As mothers, we don’t get grades or performance evaluations. We don’t win company awards or get pay raises for a job well done. We need to cheer each other on, to remind each other not only what we shouldn’t believe, but what we should.
Believe you are more than dirty laundry and dishes and toilets and diapers (or clean ones, for that matter). You are more than casseroles and carpools. When you are putting away unending number of little socks and underwear, unloading the dishwasher, wiping toothpaste off of the cabinets, know that these menial tasks do not define you. The heart behind them does. Your family needs you, not because of what you do, but because of who you are.
Believe.
In the power of your words, even when you think no one is listening. You may think you’ve failed when someone else’s kid can recite the 23rd Psalm and yours can’t remember to close the refrigerator when you’ve told her every day for the last three years. Then some night she’ll shock you when she prays, “Dear God, thank you that you made us for a purpose,” and you’ll think, I wasn’t even trying to teach her that!
Believe.
You are doing a good job—a great job—even when you mess it up. Your child doesn’t need a perfect mom, just the one who loves him best of all. No one knows your kid like you do. No one will ever love him or her the way you do. God specifically gifted this child to you, and you to this child. Your child needs you—perfectly imperfect, full-of-mother-love YOU.
Believe.
God has a plan for your life, and this stretch of time is part of it,even especially
the mundane parts. He cares when the third cup of milk in a day is
spilled. When they want Dad instead of you. When you just don’t know
what to do about the three-year old’s emotional volatility. When all
your interventions don’t make a dent in that tiny, strong will.
Believe.
Most of all, believe God has your back and he will pick up your slack. It’s not all on you to get these little ones to turn into great lovers of God and his people. Did you hear that? Say it again and feel the relief—It’s not all on you.
Your job is important. You are important. You are one fearfully and wonderfully made woman, and you have the power of the living God inside of you. If that doesn’t make you a superwoman, I don’t know what does.
Hugs and fist-bumps to you, perfectly imperfect mama. You are so loved.
Some days, you will feel like a drudge. You will feel invisible to those around you, that the work that makes up your day is more than mundane—it is meaningless. You might entertain the notion you wouldn’t be missed as much as the clean socks and hot food that would fail to appear in the drawers and on the table.
Don’t believe it.
Some days, you will feel inconsequential. You will be tempted to believe no one hears you, that your children are fortressed inside some unseen sound-barrier and what you say doesn’t matter. And not just the I-said-to-go-and-get-your-jammies-on little stuff, but the obey-God-obey-your-parents big stuff.
Don’t believe it.
Some days you will feel like a failure. You will think you’ve messed up things beyond repair, that your children deserve better than what you give them. You may not consciously use this word, because our enemy is subtle in that way, but you will feel worthless. Because really, all of it—the attack on your work, your words—is an attack on your worth.
Don’t you dare believe it.
We all want to do this mothering-job well because we know it is important, and because it doesn’t feel good to do anything badly. As mothers, we don’t get grades or performance evaluations. We don’t win company awards or get pay raises for a job well done. We need to cheer each other on, to remind each other not only what we shouldn’t believe, but what we should.
Believe you are more than dirty laundry and dishes and toilets and diapers (or clean ones, for that matter). You are more than casseroles and carpools. When you are putting away unending number of little socks and underwear, unloading the dishwasher, wiping toothpaste off of the cabinets, know that these menial tasks do not define you. The heart behind them does. Your family needs you, not because of what you do, but because of who you are.
Believe.
In the power of your words, even when you think no one is listening. You may think you’ve failed when someone else’s kid can recite the 23rd Psalm and yours can’t remember to close the refrigerator when you’ve told her every day for the last three years. Then some night she’ll shock you when she prays, “Dear God, thank you that you made us for a purpose,” and you’ll think, I wasn’t even trying to teach her that!
Believe.
You are doing a good job—a great job—even when you mess it up. Your child doesn’t need a perfect mom, just the one who loves him best of all. No one knows your kid like you do. No one will ever love him or her the way you do. God specifically gifted this child to you, and you to this child. Your child needs you—perfectly imperfect, full-of-mother-love YOU.
Believe.
God has a plan for your life, and this stretch of time is part of it,
Believe.
Most of all, believe God has your back and he will pick up your slack. It’s not all on you to get these little ones to turn into great lovers of God and his people. Did you hear that? Say it again and feel the relief—It’s not all on you.
Your job is important. You are important. You are one fearfully and wonderfully made woman, and you have the power of the living God inside of you. If that doesn’t make you a superwoman, I don’t know what does.
Hugs and fist-bumps to you, perfectly imperfect mama. You are so loved.
how wonderful! thankful for this blessing in your life right now!
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