The last few weeks have been.....intense. Yes, that's the word.
What has happened feels like regression. Three's a biter. Three has forgotten her potty training. Three's testing limits, observing reactions. Like a tiny, mad scientist.
My hands were plenty full before this nice little developmental stage sniffed us out. Now I'm all I have no idea what I'm doing! I was such a great mom last month and now the whole thing is falling apart!! What happened!?!
Y'all, Three is hard.
Three presents all kinds of problems, problems I have no idea how to solve.
Three scares me. Scares us.
Three keeps me on my toes and on my knees.
Three is good for the soul.
Three reminds me I'm not in control. Of anything.
And Three heralds precious moments like this one from last night:
Three still likes to be rocked. As we tilted back and forth, she tapped her chin with that still-chubby index finger, a contemplative expression in those big, brown eyes.
"How to make Momma feel bettuh?" she wondered aloud.
I smiled, waiting. I knew whatever she came up with would be good.
"Hmmm.....I know! I'll pway for her! And sing her a song!:
God is so goo-ed. God is so goo-ed.
God is so goo-ed. He's so goo-ed to me.
Jesus loves me dis I know
For da Bible tells me so
Little ones to Him belong
Dey are weak but He is stro-eng."
I tucked her in as she prayed, "Dear Jesus, Please help Momma sleep good tonight and help Micah to have a good day at school tomorrow and thank you for this lovely day and for Momma cooking us lunch. Amen."
"Kiss!"
Our lips met.
"Honk!"
I didn't understand this one. Reaching up, she clarified. "Honk! Honk!" She squeezed my nose, and demanded I honk hers in return.
"Honk! Honk!" I said, laughing.
My reward? Giggles. Three giggles.
Three giggles are the best.
A song and a prayer and a couple of nose honks were just what the doctor ordered. Funny--I didn't know I was sick until I was made well.
To my Momma friends who also have no idea what you are doing, I lend this little ruby of wisdom from the mouth of Three:
Little ones to Him belong.
All we can do is love, love, love, pray diligently, and do our best. We'll have victories. We'll have failures. No one gets this Mom thing 100% right, and chances are if you are daily rolling up your sleeves for hard work in the Mommy Trenches, you can't get it 100% wrong either.
[We] are weak but He is strong.
So you don't feel up to the task. Let me tell you a secret: Whether it's because of poor health, a full quiver, a special needs child, an absentee father, or what have you, most moms feel inadequate. We all have days we believe the lie, "I can't do this."
(Which is why it's so important to encourage one another rather than compete and tear each other down.)
Maybe you can't in your own strength, but you can through Christ who strengthens you (Phil. 4:13). With God, nothing is impossible (Luke 1:37).
God isn't looking for Supermoms. He's looking for moms who are dependent upon their Super God (2 Chron. 16:9).
We can't always do the right thing. Some problems don't have three step solutions. And the wisdom of the world can only get us so far. But in Christ, there is grace to cover every mistake, wisdom in abundance for the asking, and everlasting arms to hold the whole she-bang together.
My favorite Momma verse is Isaiah 40:11--
"He will feed His flock like a shepherd;
He will gather the lambs with His arm,
And carry them in His bosom,
And gently lead those who are with young."
Little ones to Him belong.
Three is carried in His bosom, right next to His heart.
My days are long and hard as a sick, overwhelmed Momma, but the Shepherd leads me gently on, day after day, question after question, problem after problem, through victories and failures, when I get it right and when I lose my mind and get it so wrong I'm sure my kids will be ruined.
God is so goo-ed.
So I'm out of my depth. Okay. I know the One who made the deeps and we're in this together.
Three will be just fine. And *deep breath* so will Thirteen.
But we'll cross that bridge in a decade or so.
And for the record, Jesus did help me sleep good last night.
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