Before I was married and had children I would often imagine myself as a mother taking care of babies, dressing them in cute outfits, fixing their hair, feeding them, playing with them, and savoring all those sweet moments. I always knew I wanted to have a quiver full, the bigger the better. My young adult years were nearly terrifying because I was confident Jesus would return before I could get married and experience pregnancy and motherhood. As early as five years old (nearly six) I knew I wanted to be a mommy. I remember being given a pretty baby doll for Christmas that year that I completely fell in love with. I loved her so much that in my six-year-old mind and heart I ached for her to be real. Kneeling beside my bed with her in my arms I tried to convince God that if He really loved me, He would make my baby real. I closed my eyes tight and fervently prayed with all the faith in my little heart, "Please God, make her real!" I opened my eyes slowly and with great hope only to be heartbroken and disillusioned. She was still hard and plastic, painted eyes wide open.
The Lord tarried and it happened. I was blessed to be married and to be with child within that year. When my first child was born I was quite confident in my mommy skills. Nursing was tackled within a few weeks, a flexible schedule was implemented and it worked out beautifully. Sleeping through the night was typical after about six weeks, and overall, I felt pretty lucky. Baby number two was easier than the first, even after returning to work eight weeks post-partum. My daughters were four years apart with gentle natures. If this is all there was to it, then I had arrived - motherhood was conquered.
Then they started to grow up. They wanted to do things that didn't require my help or guidance. I was lost. No one told me they would want to do things that didn't include me! Then I was really heartbroken and disillusioned!
Four babies later (now thirteen, nine, four, and two) I am bewildered. Completely - in the words of one of my dearest friends in the world - befuddled. Thinking I had it all figured out was such foolishness. Knowing what I know now I laugh at the notion that I had any clue how to survive it. I fully realize that it is not a destination at all. The passing years, the tough experiences, the knock-down drag-outs, the treasured moments, the boredom, the hectic schedules - all have contributed to my experience on this beautiful journey referred to as motherhood. The journey begins at conception and extends into eternity. For me, it is the thing that defines a large portion of my soul and has replaced most other things that were once relative to my identity. First, I'm a daughter of God; second, I am a wife to my very best friend; third, but certainly not the least, I am a mother to five distinct and extraordinary souls. My constant prayer is to become the mom that God wants me to be to the four little people I have the privilege of bringing up. This journey is the most important of my life, because I am responsible to show these little people how to be productive members of society. I am responsible to teach them to be self-reliant and resourceful. The scariest yet most crucial responsibility is teaching them about Jesus and showing them how to live their lives with Him at the center. If not for this element, there would be no hope to have a successful, rewarding, or even tolerable journey... I strive (though often fail) to walk daily with Him and teach my children to do the same. One day they will begin their own journeys and I will do my best to be an example they can follow!
Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate. (Psalm 127:3-5 KJV)
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