This is to those of you that struggle to fill the role of mother. Those that question if they are doing the right thing. Those that feel they are never enough.
This is to the moms who do not grow a garden and feed their children green beans canned by a far-away factory. This is to to the moms who buy bread, already sliced, from the local grocery. This is to the moms whose birthday cakes bake on a slant, whose frosting globs in the corners, whose birthday gifts sometimes come late.
This is to the moms who do not feel like they do a good enough job. The ones who failed to get the new dress finished in time for the field trip. The ones whose daughters sometimes have worn ill-fitting hand-me-downs, the ones who only know one way to braid hair.
This is to the moms who didn't dust the mantle last week. The ones who haven't defrosted the freezer for, well, it's a bit embarrassing to say. The one whose fridge needs wiping out. This is for you.
This is to the moms who have failed with their children. The one who left the gate unlatched and found your toddler wandering near the pond behind the house. The one whose child gets in trouble at school. The one whose teenager has gone astray.
This is to the moms that struggle with their imperfections. The ones that question why they have children when they make so many mistakes. The ones that have taken in the child some other woman did not want or could not keep and find themselves dismayed and overwhelmed at the load they are carrying, because this is so different from what they expected. And the ones with special children who cannot walk or cannot talk or whose brains are wired differently, and take more time, more understanding, more sacrifice than they knew they had to give.
This is to the moms who do not grow a garden and feed their children green beans canned by a far-away factory. This is to to the moms who buy bread, already sliced, from the local grocery. This is to the moms whose birthday cakes bake on a slant, whose frosting globs in the corners, whose birthday gifts sometimes come late.
This is to the moms who do not feel like they do a good enough job. The ones who failed to get the new dress finished in time for the field trip. The ones whose daughters sometimes have worn ill-fitting hand-me-downs, the ones who only know one way to braid hair.
This is to the moms who didn't dust the mantle last week. The ones who haven't defrosted the freezer for, well, it's a bit embarrassing to say. The one whose fridge needs wiping out. This is for you.
This is to the moms who have failed with their children. The one who left the gate unlatched and found your toddler wandering near the pond behind the house. The one whose child gets in trouble at school. The one whose teenager has gone astray.
This is to the moms that struggle with their imperfections. The ones that question why they have children when they make so many mistakes. The ones that have taken in the child some other woman did not want or could not keep and find themselves dismayed and overwhelmed at the load they are carrying, because this is so different from what they expected. And the ones with special children who cannot walk or cannot talk or whose brains are wired differently, and take more time, more understanding, more sacrifice than they knew they had to give.
This is to you.
This is because mothers are always a reason to celebrate.
Maybe you do have things you need to work on: patience, consistency, taking time to play with your children, to teach them to work. But you are also in this place for a reason. God has given you this place to fill, knowing full well you did not have every ability, every gift to be the "Perfect Mother." At least, not the kind of perfect you've imagined. But He has given you what you need for this job. Because Motherhood is a job.
It is also a high calling.
And you are the chosen one.
No, you do not have every gift, every talent. But you have enough.
Not only that, He has promised to be with you. He will guide you and lead you and listen to you.
Maybe you don't bake cinnamon rolls every Saturday. Maybe there are weeks when your house gets a lick and a promise. Maybe you struggle to get your family out of the house on time. But maybe that's OK. Maybe, if you're doing you're best, you are enough. Maybe your imperfections are part of how you were created.
Perhaps your gift is to teach your child to be empathetic. Perhaps your talent is to raise an artist, an author, a dreamer. Perhaps your ability lies in raising a child that is compassionate and confident and secure.
Because sometimes those things are just as important as growing a garden. Because every mother is not going to excel in every area. Because you are enough, and this is to you.
Happy Mother's Day!
