Tomorrow is Mother’s Day and tonight is getting late. So, this won’t be long, but I’m wanting to get back into writing (and publishing that writing), so I’m determined to post something here before I sleep.
Consider this the slightest glimpse into what my heart thinks of my two little ones right now. It feels truncated, but that is sometimes how musings go in the life of a mom.
Elizabeth Elaine. She’s my near 20-month-old girl, whose precise conversation (mostly not English) and imagination have me utterly delighted with her. She is mine, yet so much not. How am I supposed to mother a first-born? I wonder. Me, a second-born, with my stop-and-smell-the-roses, abstract-thinking bent and weaknesses to rub a ducks-in-a-row girl raw?
“Baby Boy Soukup” is my in uterto second child, and I am very curious about him. About what he’ll look like and what his leanings and mannerisms will be. He has a name I love to use (the rest of the world has to wait to know it), and his hello kicks and stretches are my daily window into his world. His world is about to change, and I can’t wait.
We went to a ballet the other night to watch my sisters dance. The colors and movements were thrilling, but it was a line from one of the songs played that still has my attention. “And though you never know all the steps, you must learn to join the dance; you must learn to join the dance” (from “Through Heaven’s Eyes” from the movie Prince of Egypt).
This is how I feel about motherhood right now. At least, this is how God is pressing me to feel about motherhood right now. I feel pressed to jump in fully, each day, each moment, trusting Him to hold me and to tend my imperfect efforts toward His glory. To believe that He has good mothering works for me to walk in, though I daily fall short of Good. I feel pressed to join the dance, though I’ll surely stumble. To lay hold of freedom by laying hold of Christ by faith. To go to Him. To go to Him as instinctively as I go to Elizabeth in the middle of the night when she cries. But not because I have something to offer Him. To go because I have a need for His presence, because in this relationship I am the daughter and He is the Father who knows and loves me perfectly.
My heart has been turning to God’s words from Isaiah 30:15 over and over this past week. They challenge me in the same way the song lyrics from last night do. “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” May this be increasingly true for me, Lord, in my mothering and everywhere else.