A very dear friend of mine recently suggested that a good topic for a blog would be the tension a mother feels as she tries to figure out how to appropriately divide her time and attention between her two (or more) children. This particular friend is one who I believe handles this tension with a great deal of grace and humility, but perhaps part of every mother’s struggle lies in how she perceives herself and her circumstances in each individual moment.
Before I had Bennett I admit there were times that I suffered under the delusion that I could love Corbin enough, teach him enough, and generally be enough to save him from the sin, hurt and depravity in the world around him. Of course I never would have said this out loud but I definitely perpetuated the ideal in many of my thoughts and actions. But now I find myself with two children, and I am realizing with great angst, that it is time to allow the Lord to strip me of yet another idol. I thought that I was being a good mother to Corbin by making sure that all of his needs were met, all of his questions answered, and all of his fears laid to rest. But now that Bennett is here I am coming to the painfully disconcerting realization that I cannot be all things to my children. While it is certainly true that God does not simply divide your existing love between your children when you add to your family but rather He multiplies it; I am realizing that it is not always immediately obvious how you are supposed to divvy up your time, attention and affection so that you can be sure your children feel the full depths of that God given love. Ever since Bennett was born I have felt like I am constantly letting one or both of my children down. And even in those rare moments when I feel like I may have adequately portioned out my attention between the two boys, my husband will inevitably enter the scene with some totally reasonable need that I feel none the less totally ill equipped to meet, and I am left feeling like a failure once again.
So what is the answer? Well my first instinct is to say that everyone should just have one child so as to avoid the situation altogether, but I have a sneaking suspicion that God might have eventually brought me to this point even if Corbin had remained an only child. I think maybe the whole point is that the basic intentions behind my love need to be right in order to find rest from this awful tension. I need to look at who holds the most esteemed place in my life and in my heart. A life spent in service to my children alone, no matter how noble it may seem from a secular standpoint, is in fact a life wasted. My chief purpose in all things, at all stages in life, must be to serve the one true God, and any attempt that I make to replace Him will only lead to disaster. My purpose in life is not to lift my family up, its to lift Him up. And likewise my role in my children’s lives is not to assure them of my own puny abilities, but rather to point them to the one who is truly able. I cannot be all things to my children and to believe even for a second that I can is a sin that could not only adversely effect my own life but their lives as well. Its probably about time that I acknowledge that God’s plan for my son’s lives most likely does not involve them growing up under the impression that their mother has it all together. I believe that God will equip me to love them and to look after them, but it was never His intention for me to fill a role in their lives that only He can fill.
I’m guessing that this is why that same wise friend who suggested that I write on this topic in the first place is always reminding me to preach the Gospel to myself. Because it is in realizing that every shortcoming, every flaw, sin and misstep that I will ever make as a parent has already been paid for in full on the cross, that I will find the victory and freedom to allow the one who is able to sanctify me and to make me into the mother, the wife, the woman and the servant that He created me to be.
