A Mother Who Stopped Pretending

Three clean boys in a slightly soap scum bath.

I think if I have to read about the struggle between "caring for" or "caring about" my children one more time on this blog, I might stop reading my own blog. The only comfort I take is that I know I am not alone, even if, just other fellow bloggers [although I'm sure there is more]. 

I'm currently reading Crazy Love, that, in combination with our church conference this past weekend with guest speaker Steve Thompson...has got me thinking a lot about His love. Today I continuously asked the Lord to reveal His love towards me and to help me reveal it to others. "The Others" [not to be confused with LOST, you fellow fans], are in fact most days---"just" my children. Although I see an occasional adult at the park or store, my chatting is usually limited.

It's mind boggling to me how much we struggle against what is important [eternal] and what isn't. Even in mothering, seeing things long term instead of short term. Seeing the quick short response to our child as a means to a quick silence, but forgetting the long term negative ripple effects in their lives and habits effecting even generations after from our unnecessary sharpness. 

I think I'd do my children [not to mention my husband---a whole other post] the best service to specialize in love. That what they remember, know, experience, see, and eventually share is love. Not so much the ability to sweep, or education to read, or recipes to share...but experiences of love. It's a gentle reply, serving before you sever yourself, sharing, or listening.

I want to be known as the mother whose house is kept, or excellent chef, or talented hobbyist, or perfect teacher. At this rate, even at the expense of peace and love. Maybe it's okay if I'm just known for having a slightly grubby house, slightly burnt meals, slightly neglected scrapbooks, and attempted teacher at the reward of being known as a mother who daily walked out love.

I certainly don't think these are exclusive or that you can't have them all [that is the goal], but is it okay to just come out and say: "World, what I value most isn't the temporary, seen, or external, but what I'm invested in is the eternal, unseen, inward---heart."

Would that help you understand why I don't care if there's a mess, or a snotty nose, or a unfinished worksheet? But instead that I held my tongue from cutting and built up instead. Or that I stepped over toys on my way to read to my child. What if I stopped pretending, yes it is, pretending that all this shell somehow protects something precious---when all I've done is destroy the inward to shine the outward? 

Lord, help us to nourish the inward, sometimes even at the expense of leaving a smug on the outward.