I’m preaching to myself today as much as anyone else. This week has been rough, despite the great celebrations of my son’s first birthday and the discovery of a third boy entering our family soon. But guys, let’s be real, the devil never rests, so I’m speaking Truth a little louder for you & for myself.
I will become a mom of three boys in March. Three boys. Three. I am coaching myself through it, feeling relieved that although a girl would’ve been amazing, I can now breathe a little easier knowing I have done this two times already.
But before I step out into the confidence that I wish I could say I felt, I am sinking deeper into doubt. Parenting is rough. Being a mom is a servant’s job some days, other days the most rewarding experience of all. At the sound of the “I love you’s” and the sweet slobbery kisses, I know I am loved. But I also know that I am tired, I am on my knees, and I am praying for grace over and over and over.
For my boys, I want nothing less than the greatness of God.
I could write pages and pages about how I pray they see Jesus, that they find confidence and authority in Christ, and that there is no other worth found anywhere outside of the Gospel. But remember, I’m preaching to myself just as much as you or anyone else. I have the power to pray over them, declare them as co-heirs to the throne, and speak Christ into their little, innocent hearts. But I can’t make their decisions, and that drives me crazy. I can’t imagine what our Father feels while He waits for us to return to Him. It’s not that I want my boys to find Jesus because we are a happy, healthy, and prosperous family. I want them to see Jesus in our struggle, our tears, our fights, our silliness, our joy, our celebrations, our everyday things that I tend to ignore. Wanting them to find Jesus starts with me, with me wanting to find Jesus in all of the things. In everything. In everyday. In the moments far and in between.
As a mom, as that is my primary role in life currently, I want to know my value, my worth.
And not because my boys say I love you, not because they kiss me, not because they are thankful, not even because of the state of my home and how it looks. I want to know my value and my worth because Christ declares it over me again & again. You belong to Me. You are Mine. I bought you. I called you. I love you. I give you worth. I give you rest. I want the greatness of God, wrapped in my soul and overwhelming my heart, not because I am a mom, but because I am a sinner. Because I am washed in precious blood.
And I want nothing else to matter.
I am not a perfect mom. I yell at my boys. I lose my patience. I cry in the bathroom sitting on the toilet (and eat cookies in there, too). Some days feel like a good day to leave the house because I really want to get away from my kids. I am human, so in desperate need of Christ, and none of the above things make me a bad mom. None of the struggles I face makes me ill-equipped. I want to preach it over & over to myself: Today is rough, this week is hard, but Jesus loves you still. Jesus wants you, still. Jesus is for you, still. Be still. Guys, what else matters? I want Jesus. I want it for my boys, for my husband, for my family, for every bone in my body. I don’t want to confuse the greatness of God for the greatness of this world, any man, or anything I can do. There is no worth found outside of the Gospel.
Three boys. Three. My hands and my house will be overflowing. My patience will be thin. I will be tired. But Jesus! He is for me still. He loves me still. He is where every hope and joy is found. There is no need to want anything else.
Image thanks to Krista Washler Photography