Regularly, I cry out to the Lord and explain to Him (again)
that I am unqualified to be mom to four sons because the task of raising them
is proving to be more than I can handle. Surely He made a mistake because, look
at me, my soul is weary and my heart is repeatedly broken. I’m drowning in a
sea of inadequacy and there is no one nearby to rescue me. Lord, parenting is killing
me.
The voice of the Father whispers to me in the quiet of one
of my tantrums. “What if the act of parenting
is less about the behavior modification of your children, and more about what I
want to do in you?” He says.
Let me be honest. I’m
not sure I like what that implies. I’d much rather point a bony finger at my selfish
offspring than turn an introspective eye on my own heart. I’m arrogantly skilled at setting boundaries
and doling out consequences, yet sometimes I dismiss the more significant
matter at hand. When my parenting methods and strategies become more important
than the work of the Holy Spirit in my heart, I miss the mark. No wonder parenting is killing me.
Romans 12:1 “…in view of God’s mercy, offer your bodies
as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God – this is your spiritual act of
worship.”
I realize the call to offer my body as a living sacrifice applies
to my work as a mom. Scripture calls this sacrificial act “worship.” And sacrifice means something must die. I know
full well what that “something” is. It is
me. It’s my will, my pride, and my
flesh. In the mundane tasks, the routine schedules and the physical exhaustion that
comes with being a mom, I must die to myself for the greater Good. Parenting is
killing me.
I see now. It isn’t about making sure my children don’t
embarrass me in public or land themselves in jail. It is more about the work of God in my heart through this journey of motherhood.
Only surrendered to Him can I lead my children as He has ordained. My parenting
honors God when it is a response to His mercy, a reflection of His sacrifice for
me, and a refinement of His purpose in my heart.
So I crawl onto the beckoning altar and offer my life as a
living sacrifice, yielding my will to His sovereignty. It is my spiritual act
of worship and it is for His glory alone. Praise the name of Jesus, parenting
is killing me.
Father, bring death to
the selfish part of me, the part that becomes resentful, annoyed and impatient
with the young gifts you have entrusted to me. When I’d rather be wasting time
on worldly things, change me and bind my heart to Yours. Refine me. Let motherhood,
in me, be a beautiful, living sacrifice to honor You.