Momma, Life is Here | Marvelous Mundane

Some of these motherhood seasons push me straight to survival mode. Some months are harder than others, and some weeks drag on longer than the others. Some days are filled with “I can’t do this!”, and others are wrapped in laughter and hugs. Sometimes I remind myself, “this season won’t last forever!”. And while that is true, there is a greater truth found hidden in fully living whatever season we find ourselves in.

When that newborn baby cries louder than any shower concert you’ve given; when a few hours of connected sleep sounds like a fantasy; when it takes longer to get out the door than your average drive, there is life here. Life is found in seeing the face of God, in hearing the voice of God. And this entirely dependent baby, who can’t speak their needs, who can’t voice their fears and discomforts, is the perfect picture of our dependent hearts. And when they find your eyes, when your face is the face that brings the first smile, when your touch quiets their fighting, we are them too. Because our deepest rest and greatest joy is found in the grasp of our Savior. And there is no greater place of living than of soaking in and reflecting out this immense, glorious, love. Life is Here.

When your one year old rides high on the intoxicating power of “NO”; when he decides he doesn’t need naps, bedtimes are merely suggestions, and toothbrushes are optional, life is here. When her belly-deep laughs crack open your day, when her first words and whispers mirror your own, when a ball rolled and a tower toppled are endless smiles, life is here. When we see ourselves in their stubborn self-reliance, we see our running from wisdom in their running from us, when we remember our need to know our Heavenly Father is stronger than their need to listen to us, life is here. Life is patiently walking this journey with them while our gracious Father walks this journey with us.

When your two year old’s life goal is utter independence; when their twenty-four odd months of living gifted them all of life’s wisdom; when all that you touch must be undone, reclimbed, redressed, life is here. When he greets you with epic enthusiasm; when you walk in and his smile stretches to the moon and back; when his first “love you” flies directly to your heart, life is here. Because while our hearts run after our longings, when we forget life is not in freedom but in faithfulness, we are them. And that pure joy they find in our presence, it gives a tiny glimpse of the joy waiting in the presence of God, the peace in a present, loving, Savior. And while we walk this road with them, He walks this road with us.

When your three year old’s sass matches your teenaged angst, their moment-by-moment moods change faster than the speed of sound, their crocodile tears deserve academy awards, life is here. When their arms-wrapped sweetness melts your heart, and their boundless-imagination gives your life brighter color, life is here. And when our harsh-tossed words rival their most award worthy meltdowns, our emotions shift faster than their sliding tears, we are them. Our hearts, they need a deeper truth, a stronger foundation for a life to rest on, a foundation more reliable than these emotions that bring both heart-filling beauty and life-twisting confusion. And while we daily walk our hearts back to life-giving Truth, we walk these little hearts with us.

Because we are in this together. There is no them against us; this season against my sanity, this meltdown against my backbone. There are only two souls bonded together, both needing the life and hope and strength found in a real and risen Savior.  

Whatever season we find ourselves in, we can know that life is not over there, waiting for us to finally survive this difficulty, this challenge. Life is found in knowing we have been eternally loved, sacrificially bought, and forever held. And every season of motherhood is filled with purpose when we see each day as an opportunity to soak in this truth more deeply, to share this truth more clearly, and to live out this truth more intentionally.