I Just Want to Run and I Don't Mean for Exercise...

Some days I just want to run and I don't mean for exercise. Admitting this is difficult and could cause others to pass judgement but truly there are days as a mom I just want to run. The more I live and watch my children grow the more I realize I cannot fix every problem or bubble wrap them from pain. They will be upset and there will be times I cannot protect them or stop them from crying. Being a parent can sometimes be overwhelming and I just want to run because the pain and stress their tears cause me can be almost unbearable. 

Stella is starting to suck her thumb. I have two thumb sucking girls currently and it is a constant battle in our home to break this addiction with our daughters. I promised myself I would not allow Stella to suck her thumb but my daughters seemed cursed to follow the same path as they all have tried to soothe themselves with this attached instrument of dental destruction. I put a glove on her hand this morning so she would not be able to put her thumb in her mouth and, as her sisters before her, she would not be deterred but tried to suck her thumb through the glove.

I know this is a small battle to fight but as I drove to work this morning I couldn't help but think how desperately I want her not to do this. I find myself angry at my girls and annoyed by this habit. I know the hardships Stella will face as she tries to break this habit if it is formed and I don't want to fight this thumb sucking battle with another child because I feel like I am constantly loosing as the habit is not broken but my daughter's confidence is.

It doesn't matter what the problem, as a mom we hate to see our children struggle. We hate to see them hurt, unappreciated, or caught in a habit or addiction that they cannot break. No matter what form hardship takes in their life we feel the weight multiplied and even worse at times can do nothing to lighten the load. 

Being a parent looks nothing like I thought it would and if I had known the reality of what I know now, I would do nothing differently because even though there can be great pain there is always uncoditional love. A love so great and so pure it can only be felt by a parent for their child. A love that is displayed through Stella's smiles or Lily's laughter. A love that is given when Sam draws me a picture or Lucas curls in my lap to watch a show. They do not doubt I will always be there and I cannot replicate the satisfaction I get from tucking them in at night. Being a parent can sometimes be overwhelming but I just can't imagine a better name to be called than mom. 

I wonder if God in His wisdom knew we would go through these highs and lows in parenting so He chose to have us call Him "Father". Think about it my friends, our God can empathize with what we are going through as parents. He gets it. He knows what it is like to watch a child go through hardships and pain. He knows what it is like to offer a solution and only be rejected. He understands what it is like to loose His child and to watch His child be mocked and abused. He gets our pain friends truly He does and I wonder if that might be a reason why He chose to allow us to call Him "Father". An name we can understand and a name we can correlate with unconditional love and protection. 

As I watch sweet Stella sleep and I think about all my kids and the hardships they have faced I celebrate that God is my Father. I ponder this relationship I have with Him and celebrate the love that He gives to His children. I celebrate no matter what I am going through, He is big enough to handle the pain and will never run because He loves me unconditionally, His grace is sufficient and His power is made perfect in my weakness.

I will never be a perfect mom. I will make mistakes. I will loose my temper and I will feel the inclination to run. The world is broken and so am I but my God is not. If I daily surrender myself to Him and take it one step at a time He will provide me with what I need to be the mom my kids need me to be. Even dirty clay can be molded into a beautiful piece of pottery if allowed to be worked by the Potter. 

Lord, I give myself to you now. A dirty piece of clay not of much use to anyone so mold me. Mold me into something that is strong and able to face the challenges of life and motherhood. Something that can serve those around me and prepare my children for the challenges they will face ahead. Something that is durable and able to withstand the hurt and pain my children face without breaking or running away. Something that is memorable and able to tell a story that brings honor and glory to Your name.  Above all something that is truly Yours so I can worship You forever.

Yet you, Lord, are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
~Isaiah 64:8