The beautiful mess of motherhood

I realized recently how God has been changing me.  I watched a mama carry a flailing, screaming child around the baseball fields towards the parking lot to her car during one of the many of boys' baseball games.  Previously, though I hate to admit it, I would have been tempted to judge.  

But not anymore.  

I saw that mama struggling against the will of her child and tears of compassion stung my eyes.  I have felt the humiliation, frustration and angst.  I have so often silently muttered that desperate desire... please not here.  Please not now.  

The struggle, the weariness, the exhaustion.  Despite all the training and discipline and instruction, the behavior and tantrums and obstinate defiance persist.  

Now, I understand.

God sent two little girls to our family that are changing me as a mama... one with special behavioral and language needs.  I am humbled.  More broken.  More exhausted. More human. More aware of my need for my Savior.

Our first round of parenting might have left me feeling falsely confident.  This second round... I am anything but.  Life has become much more messy... but it is a beautiful mess.

And I believe that is exactly what God intended for me.

Because in the midst of the messiness, the struggles, the doubts, the fears, and the fighting, I am becoming more real. More transparent.  More vulnerable.

There are those precious moments I will treasure always - the perfect, tender times that I once thought motherhood was all about - and also moments I hope to forget.

I have failed so very often... and have been forgiven often.  

So many tears have been shed, and so much comfort received.

There are days I never want to end, and days that can't end soon enough.

I have realized I have limits, and have been pushed beyond them.

My pride is being pruned away.

Desperation is replacing self sufficiency.

The bondage of trying to keep any sort of image is broken. 

I need His strength to step into my weakness, time and time again.

And as He does, this mess called motherhood becomes more beautiful.

For by the beautiful grace that my Father extends to me, I learn to be more gracious, more merciful, more patient.

And by the extravagant, sacrificial love I receive, I learn to love more deeply, more intentionally, more passionately. 

Though tattered and torn, weary and worn, He sustains me day after day.  

I'm being refined as a mommy, and the process is not easy.  

But it's a daily part of this beautiful mess of motherhood.

And I embrace it fully.