Two months have gone by, and I haven’t been able to write my feelings down worthy enough for a blog. It’s much easier to share a recipe or a birth story instead of a blog admitting to your trials. I have so many thoughts caged up inside this little mind, enough for several tear filled posts. And my journal is cluttered, there are at least half a dozen-half written entries but not-a-one was good enough to share— during what is, undoubtedly, one of the most difficult seasons in my world. But today, while I was in the shower, I began talking to myself almost as if I was reading a story. It started with, “When you’re stretched so far but you’re not torn apart.” And it ended with, “I still believe in this family.” And then, the tears began to flow, right there in the shower, each one joining the next drop of water descending down my face. I stopped talking for a moment, stopped “reciting” this unwritten story, and I thought about the shame-filled loneliness I’ve felt. I wondered how many other moms were feeling this way at that very moment. Then I realized I needed to put it all down, I needed to share–even if it isn’t my best written work.
It’s safe to say I’ve peeled myself out of bed more than I’d like to admit lately. It’s ironic since there’s always a smiling baby greeting me alongside the bright, beautiful sun. The sun: my reminder that it’s a new day, new hope, new milestones, and new miracles are waiting for me. But when one of your children have chosen to stray, to lead another life apart from yours, leaving behind most of what you’ve prayed and hoped for… It doesn’t matter how cloudless and beautiful the day is, the shadows follow you despite how unwelcome they are—except on the “some-days”. Those “some-days” are the ones that keep me going, they’re the ones that take the murkiness out of my life, because I have five out of six other reasons that are waiting and watching for me. They’re watching my struggle, my pain, and how I’ll come out of this. And then I think… That’s it! This is the “why”… Because if you’ve ever experienced brokenness in your family, you’ve likely asked yourself “WHY” more times than you can count.
I instinctively want to hide myself when things bring me down to my knees, I want to tell my children that, “Mommy’s crying because she’s happy”… But that’s just not realistic, and it isn’t fair to their growth. It’s OK for them to know that it’s not all just “Fine”… I mean, how many days have I said, “I’m fine” when asked how I’m doing?? It’s OK to be weak, to be fragile, to be held, and carried. There’s strength in weakness because those are the times you call out to Him— It’s when He has all of your attention—when you allow Him to carry you… This is when He sweeps you up into His arms and strengthens you. And that, that is my “why”. I’ve wept, I’ve felt defeated, and I’ve been stretched beyond what I’ve ever thought I was capable of being stretched, but I’m not torn apart— I still believe in this family—my children and my husband are witness to that. They’re witness to my praying, my hopefulness, and my faith.
This blog could go on forever, but I want to end it with this…
If you’re a momma that is dealing with a wayward child, a broken promise, or any other lies that are consuming your home… There is hope! Continue to pray! And hold on to your “some- days”, those are God’s gifts to us, His reminder for us to keep on going because you’re not torn apart, you’re still living through it all, and there is beauty in your pain. This is coming from a mom in the middle of her storm.
‘He mends the broken hearted’ —especially when they’re the mother’s with torn hearts.