Mother's day
It's one of my favorite movies, Mom's Night Out. Because, well, #truth. Funny and full of emotion and far-fetched action and oh how it soothes the soul to know I am not the only Bruce Banner of moms.
Of course everything goes wrong for these poor mamas, desperate for a few hours of adult. The main character Allyson finds herself in the lobby of a police station, all of her friends behind bars. She sits down with a giant, leather-clad, tattoo artist biker named Bones who was trying to help the mamas with their escalating problems through the night.
Allyson: I can't get in front of it. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I give, I'm just, I'm not enough.
Bones: For who? Not enough for who?
Allyson: I mean, my husband, the kids, my parents, God...everybody, I don't know.
Bones: You. Not enough for you. [...] I saw something on Pinterest the other day. It was an eagle, just caring for its young. It's a beautiful thing to watch one of God's creations just doing what He made it to do, just being an eagle. And that's enough. Y'all spend so much time beating yourselves up. It must be exhausting. Let me tell you something, girl. I doubt the good Lord made a mistake giving your kiddos the mama he did. So you just be you. He'll take care of the rest.
Thank you, Jesus.
Guilty. I beat myself up over the big and the small and everything else. Aden himself said to me, "I sure am glad I'm a boy. Being a mom is a big deal!" So it's no secret. But in this big deal I'm living, they really are good kids. They are healthy and content and provided for and saved by the blood of Jesus. There is room for improvement everywhere for all of us, but they are good kids.
And though I am irreversibly flawed, I do know that the Lord has worked through my hands and arms and eyes and voice and mind and heart for their good. What an honor.
I don't have the Pinterest eagle cam from the movie, but I have a bird of my own. She alone breaks the pre-dawn stillness with song, repeating one melody and then another until the horizon begins to brighten. Outside the bathroom window she sits and sings, day after day for an audience of one. One of God's creations just doing what He made it to do.
Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.
Worship the Lord with gladness;
come before Him with joyful songs.
Know that the Lord is God.
It is He who made us, and we are His.
Psalm 100:1-3
I like to think she's a mama too. She knows what lies ahead of her for the day, sustaining her babies' lives as well as her own. An overwhelming blessing and an equally overwhelming responsibility. And so she rises each morning to give praise and thanks to the One who gave her both the blessing and the responsibility. To the only One who can truly sustain her.
Her song pierces through my early-morning groggy meanness, reminding me to sing. And give thanks. And the dishes are a blessing and the laundry is a blessing and crumbs on the floor are a blessing and how could I have forgotten that God has given me the desire of my heart? I'm a mama. No one will ever love them like I do and no one will ever love me like they do.
And so I will wash their feet. Over and over. Because He washes mine. Over and over.
Thank you, Lord. From the bottom of my heart, to the top of my lungs, thank you.
Of course everything goes wrong for these poor mamas, desperate for a few hours of adult. The main character Allyson finds herself in the lobby of a police station, all of her friends behind bars. She sits down with a giant, leather-clad, tattoo artist biker named Bones who was trying to help the mamas with their escalating problems through the night.
Allyson: I can't get in front of it. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I give, I'm just, I'm not enough.
Bones: For who? Not enough for who?
Allyson: I mean, my husband, the kids, my parents, God...everybody, I don't know.
Bones: You. Not enough for you. [...] I saw something on Pinterest the other day. It was an eagle, just caring for its young. It's a beautiful thing to watch one of God's creations just doing what He made it to do, just being an eagle. And that's enough. Y'all spend so much time beating yourselves up. It must be exhausting. Let me tell you something, girl. I doubt the good Lord made a mistake giving your kiddos the mama he did. So you just be you. He'll take care of the rest.
Thank you, Jesus.
Guilty. I beat myself up over the big and the small and everything else. Aden himself said to me, "I sure am glad I'm a boy. Being a mom is a big deal!" So it's no secret. But in this big deal I'm living, they really are good kids. They are healthy and content and provided for and saved by the blood of Jesus. There is room for improvement everywhere for all of us, but they are good kids.
And though I am irreversibly flawed, I do know that the Lord has worked through my hands and arms and eyes and voice and mind and heart for their good. What an honor.
I don't have the Pinterest eagle cam from the movie, but I have a bird of my own. She alone breaks the pre-dawn stillness with song, repeating one melody and then another until the horizon begins to brighten. Outside the bathroom window she sits and sings, day after day for an audience of one. One of God's creations just doing what He made it to do.
Worship the Lord with gladness;
come before Him with joyful songs.
Know that the Lord is God.
It is He who made us, and we are His.
Psalm 100:1-3
Her song pierces through my early-morning groggy meanness, reminding me to sing. And give thanks. And the dishes are a blessing and the laundry is a blessing and crumbs on the floor are a blessing and how could I have forgotten that God has given me the desire of my heart? I'm a mama. No one will ever love them like I do and no one will ever love me like they do.
And so I will wash their feet. Over and over. Because He washes mine. Over and over.
Thank you, Lord. From the bottom of my heart, to the top of my lungs, thank you.
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