Being a mom hurts sometimes.
Lets face it ... it hurts a lot of times.
I used to think that if I did it right, it wouldn't. If I came up with the right philosophy and managed my children correctly and followed the rules and did all the right things, somehow they'd never hurt and neither would I.
We can forget this is the broken place. We can look at lists and read books and listen to lectures and think we've "got it sorted," as Edmund might say. And then, we actually begin parenting, and our children start to grow up.
And they hurt.
And so do we.
It is then we must cling to the promise that God's stories never end in ashes, as Ann Voskamp said at a gathering I attended a few weeks ago, the words landing like rain on this mama's broken and bruised and bleeding heart.
If all you see are ashes, the story isn't over. But that's a story for another day, because we're still sitting in an awful lot of ashes right now. I've written a bit about regret and motherhood at The Better Mom this month ...
"An awful lot of years have gone by since my gifts first arrived. And I've learned a thing or two that I didn't expect. Children can be handled "right" ... and still not "act right." I was determined not to cause any breaking-- and yet we all arrive in this broken place bearing scars, some very obvious, some invisible; some internal, some external; some physical, some mental. Falling through heaven to here can cause cracks we can't see 'til our children are under pressure, and even the tenderest of handling from a mama can't erase every fissure or seal every hurt place.
And of course, having children reveals we have a few cracks of our own...
Please join me at The Better Mom for the rest of this article!