I’m tired of it.
I’m tired of all the fussing and all the sweeping and all the folding and refolding and folding some more. I’m tired of the hitting and the begging and the beating on the bathroom door.
I can’t sit still. I can’t send a message. I can’t read a page without getting tugged on or questioned. I’m getting short. I’m getting tired. I’m not getting anything done. I can’t take a break. I can’t take a bath. I can’t finish a meal, yet I am fed up.
And they can tell.
You see, those little eyes — they see me. They watch me from wake up time until the night light flips on. They hear how I respond, when I snap back, irritated.
They notice when I carry my phone around instead of carrying them.
And I can tell. I can tell they want me instead of the me that’s hurrying to get something else done. They want time instead of the moments in between items I’m checking off the list. They don’t want to be what’s in the way of getting the next thing done. They want to be the thing.
And hello — how often is this happening? How much am I missing in the middle of the mess. And it is so so messy.
And I hear Paul as he prays:
“I pray that the eyes of your (mommy) heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you.” Ephesians 1:18
Now, Paul wrote this letter to the church in Ephesus so many, many years ago, but like many promises in Scripture, his encouragement still guides and affirms us today.
You see, this message to refocus applies directly to a worn out, used-up mommy like me.
First, it seems right that a message combining two totally different body parts teaches me a lesson. “Where is mommy’s eye; where is mommy’s heart”?
Just like this letter was written to a people who loved Jesus and trusted Him — they still needed prayer. They still needed to step back and see the day, their purpose, their promise for what it is worth. And it is worth a whole lot.
We keep our eyes on our littles as they near the edges of their chairs at dinner time, as they run toward the road playing ball. We ask for our hearts to be strong as we watch them stumble around in toddler shoes and one day drive a car.
And so, Paul tells us — he is praying for us. He is praying that our eyes and our hearts see the love story before us — the hope that we have for each, unique day. They’re all important. That we fix our eyes on Jesus, and ask Him to be what carries us through the tantrums at Target.
And then I know —
Mothering is The Thing today.
It is not the thing to do before you get to the real thing on your list. IT IS THE THING.
And I am ready to reset. I am ready to jump in, arms wide open for whatever is thrown my way (and in this household, something will be thrown).
I’m tried of missing the good stuff, because I’m too concerned about the rest.
Sure, I do have goals I need to get to. I do have a schedule I have to aim for, but I am going to try better to be better at remembering how sweet this season is and how much hope we get to know and get to share with the little audience that (right now) looks up to me.
My kids are not the distraction. My kids are my mission. And in this (too) short time in my life, I want to savor each smile, each hug, each question they ask us. I always hope they choose to ask us first. I always hope they know the great value they hold; I always hope they know the Savior who came to make us strong. Especially, when we get tired.
Friends, some days are just a wreck. We can’t finish anything it seems for having to redo that thing over and over and over again. And I am convicted, and I am challenged to follow some of my own Dad’s advice to “Keep what’s important – important.” Friends, if you trust in Jesus — you have Jesus!!
“In Him, we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that HE LAVISHED ON US.” Ephesians 1:7-8
Sister, soak in it – that grace of Jesus. Soak it up. Share it. Dare to keep your day simple and your mind focused on how to show the victory and freedom we’ve found to the children we’ve been chosen to help raise. He will carry us all.