The Power of Mom

I expected late night feedings and piles more laundry. I expected bandaids and legos and sippy cups and navigating through these all strewn throughout the house. I expected noise and babysitter fees and diaper costs and peanut butter and jelly. I expected exhaustion.

But, what no one told me before it all began is that motherhood isn’t just the next step in happily ever after, the one where my playing house meets the nickname “mom.” It’s not just a reason for a new Pinterest board and registry making and accessorizing with a new, much larger, fuller tote bag. It’s not simply about the park dates or garage sales or dance recitals or birthday parties or swim lessons or picture books.

What no one told me is that although we all strive daily for the soaking up of the small moments, the rocking and playing and singing and dancing, motherhood is rooted so much deeper. There are so many celebrations, so many endearing quirks, nuances, memorable phrases and giggles, and yet the greatest joy is more lasting. What I’m coming to believe is that most of the time, for the greatest, most powerful influence and reward, an investment must be made in the daily and isn’t nearly as pretty as all of these. Motherhood, in all of its sacrifice and humbling and nurturing and cherishing is not simply a title, but a mission, perhaps, in fact, one of the most powerful that exists.

This mission is found in the moments when I join a playdate and just as soon as I cozy up with creamed up coffee ready for girl talk, hungry for adult conversation, I hear one of mine in screaming sobs unable to communicate and spiraling in defeat as he is overwhelmed with the chaos and needs to be heard. It’s hidden in whispers when one of my children finds herself helpless in trying to work past her fear to open the door and join her classmates at dance class and week after week we are both left in sweaty tears, in the hallway outside the class frustrated with each other and at a standstill. It’s found in saying no when everyone else is saying yes. It’s saying yes when every self-preserving instinct says no. It’s found in being bold for my children. It’s found in pulling them back out of bed when everyone else is asleep to talk quietly about the day we had together or, perhaps more importantly, had apart. It’s found in the moments of listening to my mother’s intuition regardless of outside opinions and societal pressures. It’s found in the sacrifice. The power of my role as mom is being lived out most in all of these in-between moments, the ones of unmet expectations and frustrating standstills, when I’m faced with easy, humiliated, angry, pushed-to-my-breaking-point reactions versus humble, investing, sacrificial, rewarding ones. Because through just as many tears as celebrations along the way, in these first six years of being mom, I’ve convicted that in all of these, I’m laying a foundation for the rest of their lives. It’s my words that are being planted in their hearts, food for future self-image and confidence. It’s my demeanor that’s shaping their attitude, their outlook on their abilities and potential. It’s my perspective that is giving birth to theirs.

Thus, I’ve been challenged as of late to seek out the most sincere ways to tune in rather than tune out in the moments for gentle, intentional guidance. It’s tedious most days, but I’m steadying my gaze to mindfully tend to their hearts, proactively praying over them, with them, guiding them through the “terrible twos” and “dreadful threes” and “sassy fours” and all the complex stages to come. As their earliest source of love and acceptance I’m looking to more carefully consider the words, the phrases, the melodies, the influences that will find home in their hearts. The choices are full of sacrifices but I’m catching glimpses of the worth of slowing the pace, minimizing the busyness in order to leave space for the careful nurturing of their minds.

As I grow day-by-day into this role of mom, striving daily to more deeply embrace this powerful privilege of being the mother they need, I’m starting to see that the sweetest fruit will blossom in my children’s lives when I seek out the tough stuff, embrace the the hard things of parenting, when I dig in deep to nurture the roots of their character, to invest in the lasting by living motherhood as a mission.

An ambassador of goodwill, Amy Charmichael worked for over 50 years opening and maintaining an Indian orphanage and shared these words in regards to her work, and I believe they describe the mission of motherhood perfectly.

You work for the years you will not see. You work for the invisible all the time, but you work for the Eternal. So it is all worthwhile.

When we realize this power of our role as mother, we must simultaneously accept that there aren’t trophies along the way. In fact, it can be somewhat of a lonely calling at times. Pinterest doesn’t typically display this beauty on their homepage, and I’ve never read it in the “Top Ten Tips for Great Kids” gone viral for the day. I know I personally don’t typically Instagram pictures of the days spent only at home crafting attitude adjustments. And, as we navigate the crossroads of our mothering journey, we realize whether stay-at-home, work-at-home, work-from-home or full-time, part-time, all-time, our influence has little to do with where our daily footsteps land, because little feet follow our heart. Because, this all being said, the reward for this lifestyle is greater than any award we could ever receive. For as mom, in all of it’s hardships and glory, we are creating a powerful legacy, not just for one generation, but for many to come.