Easy, it will never be...

There are a lot of moments that lead me to ask myself if I really know what I'm doing.  Not when it comes to life, but when it comes to being a mother (though motherhood is my life right now ;).  I often here that marriage requires a lot of work, but I don't think parenting ever gets as much emphasis, though I find it more challenging than anything I've ever done.  I've never prayed more in my life than after my children were born.  Being a mother doesn't bring instant gratification, because you aren't rewarded for your efforts right away (at least, not always), but I can say that having to depend on a source outside myself (God) has yielded a greater reward than anything else.  I've learned the definition of joy.

As a kid, I knew there was a difference between joy and happiness, but I couldn't quite explain it because I didn't understand it.  Happiness happens as a result of an experience, but joy is something that exists apart from experience.  It's intensity doesn't wane after a bad day, but it sustains us during our trials because it is rooted in our faith which is as invisible but alive as we allow it to be.  Trials are an inevitable and even necessary part of life.  They test our faith in our Creator and everything he claims to be.  He claims that he is good and all-knowing which can be confusing to us.  What is equally confusing is that Christ was fully aware of the suffering ahead of him (his heart was heavy in Gethsemane the night before his arrest and crucifixion) but he was also aware of the glorious end and the ultimate good that would result from his obedience to go to the cross, because he was God incarnate.  He knew sadness and betrayal.  Gethsemane was not a happy place, but joy was still there.  His obedience to follow God instead of fighting happened as a result of his joy.   He had a heavy heart, and he even cried, but his obedience instead of rebellion proved that he knew God was still good.  He drew near to God instead of running away, or avoiding his responsibility. He was able to have faith in God's goodness in spite of his situation, and that is true joy.

Now, going to the cross and being a mother aren't exactly on the same playing field ;).  Sometimes it feels like torture. (Hah!  Sorry, but it's true.)  Not quite as bad as being tortured emotionally, spiritually, and physically on a cross.  That in itself is a source of joy for us, though.  I think the hardest part of motherhood is wondering if your child understands.  If they really know that you want the best for them and that they need to trust that you want to help them make wise decisions (sounds familiar).  Sometimes I feel like I'm speaking a completely different language.   I pray for wisdom and words; the wisdom to find the words to communicate with my child so that she understands the reason for our rules, and the reason why I cannot give into her deafening screams, and give her what she wants.  It's overwhelming, and sometimes I just shut my mouth and let the moment happen (in slow motion, it seems) while I utter the simplest prayer that we've all probably prayed at some point, whether literally or sarcastically, "God, help me."

Funny how that can escape our mouths whether we believe in God or not.

And you know what?  He answers my prayers.  Not always right away.  But I'm supposed to be an example to my kids, right?  I can't have a tantrum when God doesn't give me what I want, when I want it.  Sometimes I do, though, and sometimes I just eat too many desserts, instead.

I often wonder if I'm capable, and I forget that I'm not supposed to be.  None of us were equipped to handle parenting or anything in life alone.  There is a reason why kids don't come with a handbook, so that we don't even try to go it alone.  We're supposed to depend on their Creator; he brings people into our lives.  He even speaks to us thru our children, of all people.

Just this weekend I told my husband that I was afraid I didn't have what it takes to be a "good" mother (whatever that means, right? ;).  Guess how the weekend ended?  Well, almost in tears.  There were a lot of frustrating moments.  But guess how one of the frustrating moments ended?

My strong-willed firstborn: "Mommy, let's pray [and this is going on randomly when I'm taking her to the bathroom, after a heated moment]. 'Thank you God for the lesson and thank you for Mommies.'  Mommy, I'm not gonna cry and scream in church, ok?"
Me: With a tear stained face, still recovering from the billionth tantrum that morning, now laughing.  I'm speechless, and just give her a hug again.  Then, I cry again, because I realize that this is God's way of showing me that my efforts are not fruitless.

It's easy for our hearts to become hardened during our struggles.  I speak from experience.  Sometimes, I don't pray for days.  It's not something I like to admit, but I get mad at God too.  I get angry and bitter.  But let me tell you something.  We've been trying so hard.  And this parenting thing requires a group effort; the more the better, seriously.  Jose and I are trying to make a habit of starting our mornings in unified prayer, and not just at dinner.  We don't always feel like it, sometimes we get frustrated when we don't receive an answer, but we've kept going.

I can say with confidence that I would've missed out on that moment with my 3 year old if I would've given in to bitterness instead of joy and stopped praying.  Why?  She isn't much of a sleeper and likes to wake up before the sunrise, sometimes she hears and sees us pray.  She asks a lot of questions; she wants to know what we're doing.  We've also been trying to pray with her more often.  Sometimes prayer isn't something I engage in very easily, and I've always wanted it to come naturally with my kids.  The only way is to introduce it to our kids at a young age.  But let me tell you something.  I didn't give her the words to pray that morning in the bathroom.  I've never even used the words, "thank you for this lesson" when praying with her one on one.  I've never heard her say, "thank you for mommies" in any other context.

I think her prayer is an answer to my prayers.  When I asked God to help me, he answered.  He didn't shout from the heavens, "I Am!" but he spoke thru the very person I'd been praying for.  He is helping us; he is moving in her heart.  It's not up to me to change her; I can only control my own actions.  I can choose to not harden my heart when I'm faced with the daily challenges of motherhood, or any other struggles.  When I choose to have joy by trusting in God in spite of my circumstances, I am also given opportunities to experience happiness in ways I couldn't have if I had chosen anger instead of joy.  Happiness and joy aren't the same thing, but there is a connection.