Motherhood: A Call to Carry On

Carry on.  When you’re drop dead tired and there’re still several hours and as many chores left to do at the end of the day: Carry on.  When you have so much to do you don’t know how you’ll do it all: Carry on.  When you have so many needs to fill and seemingly not enough resources to fill them all: Carry on.  When you’re weary and successes are few and failures are many: Carry on.  When you feel all alone and as if no one cares for what you do: Carry on. 

Carry on, Mother, carry on!  Motherhood’s a call to carry on.  No matter what you think, how you feel or how things seem to appear, as a mother, you’re called to carry on.

I was mulling over this message, I got to thinking about flying; the hustle and bustle of the airport, the waiting in line, the scans and the check-points.  You board the plane and you prepare for the flight ahead and you sit back and either endure or enjoy the ride.  You don’t really worry about your baggage, for at that point there’s really nothing you can do about it anyway.  But there’s still your “carry on” stuff… the stuff you need to be responsible to take care of.  All the while, it’s up to you to make the best of the flight or perhaps by default, just choose to snooze or endure the passage of miles and time. 

Motherhood’s a lot like that… you may come into it with lots of baggage, but there comes a point that you need to put the baggage down and “check it” as it were, and deal with your carry-on’s.  You know, it’s interesting how baggage goes… it’s all the stuff we think we’ll need for the trip; it’s all the stuff we thought we couldn’t live without; it’s all the stuff that follows us wherever we go and much of it doesn’t do us any good or isn’t actually useful or necessary for the trip –we usually find that out when we reach the destination.  Actually, for most all of us, what’s really important is what’s in our carry-on’s.  We usually pack the most important things in our carry-on’s – our valuables, our money, our credit, our identification, our appearance enhancing tools, and other necessities.  Problem is, many mothers get bogged down with their heavy baggage and are consumed with looking at it, thinking about it, rifling through it, trying to carry it around –that  they forget to hang on tight to their precious carry-on’s.   Many mothers are more concerned with the baggage… the things, the what if’s, the furnishings, the styles, the weights of the world, the what-will-other-people-think’s in life. 

It’s what’s in the carry-on that is most important —You  keep the carry-on stuff intact, chances are good that no matter what happens to the baggage, you’ll still make it though the trip just fine.  Your ‘carry-on’ is usually what you need for the trip… the stuff in the carry-on is your treasure.  Well, this is sort of a description of motherhood, but as analogies usually do, this analogy breaks down at some point. 

Motherhood’s a call to carry on.  But we don’t carry on alone.  O, the enemy may attempt to persuade us that we’re alone, that no one else is doing what we’re doing, that we have too much to carry or not enough help with what we’ve got to carry or that our load is heavier that other mother’s loads or worse: that our load or the work we carry is not all that important – that anyone can do it.  Truth is, whatever the LORD’s given us to do is ours to do – not someone else’s to carry and do.  That’s why the LORD has so faithfully preserved His Word, given us His direction and defined our roles as mothers.  Many mothers attempt to carry baggage that’s not even theirs to carry –as if what they’ve got isn’t enough already.  Many mothers think they’ve got to do all the lifting and carrying and, really, the LORD never intended mothers to do all that some do.  O, some things are noble, even admirable, but they’re not necessarily what the LORD designed and called them to do. 

So, how do we carry on?  Well, I’ve come to see that carrying on is probably best defined as obedience – obedience to the will and way of the LORD and nothing else – for  obedience sort of sums up the whole of the Christian walk. It’s hearing what you’re being told and doing it.  And for mothers, it’s what we do (or ought to do) and what we teach (or ought to teach).  As we walk with the LORD and live in obedience to Him, He enables us to hear Him and to obey Him –that’s the precious work of the Holy Spirit.  As we live and walk in obedience to Him, we’re carrying on the call of motherhood.   For God calls us to obey Him and He calls us teach our children as we rise up,  as we lie down and as we walk along the way.  A mother cannot lead children where she herself is not going; a mother cannot teach what she herself has not learned or is not learning.  A mother cannot call her children to obedience if she’s not seeking that in and for herself –it’s part of that precious calling: the call to carry on.

So, precious mother, when the way is dark and the future seems bleak: carry on. When the path is rocky, windy and steep: carry on.  When life seems to be endless piles –piles of papers, piles of dishes, piles of laundry, piles of toys and books and crayons, piles of dirt and piles of chores: carry on.

And when you feel you cannot go on, stop where you are, fall to your knees and carry on.  Carry on to the LORD, He will be there, He will hear and He will carry you.  And you will see that all the while you carry on, your cares are in the hand of Jesus and all your carrying on is in His strong hand.  You will never find a time when you open the Word or fold your hands in prayer that He won’t already be there.  You’ll never find a time where your prayers are not heard by the One who loves you.  There will never ever be a time where you step out in faith or in obedience and not fin Him already there. 

If it’s been a while since you stepped aside to pray or to read the Word or to write in your journal, taste and see: the LORD is good.  He will already be there.  He will welcome you with open arms – He won’t be looking at where you haven’t been, He will be looking at your “now.”  In the moment you call upon His name, He will answer, He will be there.  Taste and see.

Dear mother, faithful and wise, you’re called to carry on – one day at a time in the hand of the Saviour.  He’s not looking at your yesterdays or even your worries about tomorrow; He’s looking at your “today” – at your “now.”  All that stuff that in the baggage?  Be done with fretting about it; be done with lesser things, be done with vain glory and all the trappings of the world.  The enemy doesn’t want you to bask in the blessing and direction of the LORD –that’s why he seeks to distract you and weigh you down –reminding you of your failures, what you don’t have and what you haven’t done –or worse: that none of it matters, that it doesn’t matter what you do.   

But today?  O, today, dear mama, today’s your new beginning. Now is the day, now is the time to carry on in His name – His wonderfully strong name.  Your children will see Him in you and they’ll see the Light on the path as you carry on.  You have a most honourable, most noble calling: that of carrying on throughout motherhood.  Be faithful.  Finish well.

 

an entry from

  Carrying on with you: in love and blessings… pamela

Keeping Up

teacuppamelaI’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… you know, keeping up.  Not the Keeping up with the Joneses sort of keeping up, but the staying strong and keeping up with the times sort of keeping up.  It’s been going on for awhile, but I hadn’t noticed it so much in the last few years as much as I have recently.

On a recent trip down to SeaTac airport, there was some questioning who’d drive and who’d stay home.  I volunteered to drive and as I was driving and the miles were passing… maybe it was mile-marker 14 or so, I mulled over the thought that I wondered  am I going the right way — or will I miss my turn-off?   Then I thought, O, that’s absurd, I go down to the airport at least once a month, if not more.  Then I got to thinking,  there sure have been a lot of changes to the Bellevue skyline and in the number of cars on the road.  And I felt old.   Music was playing… I hadn’t pushed any of the buttons (preset to stations I didn’t even know) and I noted that everyone in the vehicle was using some sort of device… listening, talking, texting… texting… texting.  And somewhere along the way, I thought: Omy, I really must work at keeping up.  A few minutes later, arriving at the departure gates, my daughter said I ought to go in and that she’d drive the van around; go ahead, mama, go ahead, I’ve got it.

Eventually I obliged and got out… still thinking, still feeling old, still thinking I need to keep up, I thought: Yes, you’ve got it; I used to have it and now I feel like I don’t.  And time seemed to stand still for a moment as I waited with the others for the passengers to deplane.  A bit later, as we made our way home, I commented to the driver, I need to keep driving sometimes — I need to stay sharp, I need to keep up.

She smiled and said, don’t worry, I don’t mind driving.  And I thought, me neither.   She doesn’t know I need to drive.  She doesn’t know I need to keep up.

another birthday…

 

Another birthday for one of our children.  Another day to reflect on the many blessings, provisions and calling of the Lord on this son’s life — the golden child, the brothers and sisters call him.   We all have a smile when someone says this or refers to him in this manner.  They all know they are — each one to me — a golden child, though they’d insist he is the golden child.  ~smile~

So another year, another birthday… another celebration that doesn’t look like one here tonight.  We’ll make up for it when he returns from Africa in a couple of months — but for now, we have had a day of reflection, stories and melancholy, misty eyes.  Well, maybe that was just me with the misty eyes most all day today.  It’s not that I want him to stay around here — I really don’t — but he’s such a delightful person… just missing him especially much today as I’ve been reflecting on the many things that have been particular to him.  I think back on his love for anything-pooh-bear to his love for a favourite blanket and the shiny blond hair of his younger years.  In those days his hair was cut much longer than he’d ever wear it today — in a “bowl cut” — the same style of haircut I gave to each of the other boys before and after him in their younger years.  Two brothers older and four younger than him.  Funny to hear them talk now of how they all loved their hair that way — what they don’t know is that it was the only cut for young boys I knew how to do very well.  I glanced at a pooh bear today…  stopping for a moment to remember… and smiled.

One of the wonderful advantages of the passage of time is that we accumulate many stories and  happy memories — these both bless us and bring us tears when a day such as this comes along.  And while we all miss him for as many different reasons as there’ve been minutes in this day, we’re blessed by the knowledge that he’s right where he ought to be.  And somehow, that makes everything perfect.  Just as a cake & ice cream would be the perfect thing to serve were he to be here at home tonight.

I’ve been reflecting on God’s tender preparations for me for these years — and in different ways, He’s actually prepared all of us for these days.  Showing Himself strong on our behalf, He’s orchestrated quite a mixture of joys and sorrows — gains and losses — working everything together for our good and His glory.  I see this more and more clearly as the years pass.

So, Timothy’s in Africa… adding another birthday to the number of birthdays he’s spent away from home.  I’ll get used to this — perhaps, in a way, I already am.  I think of the years he’s been in Mexico or in Africa and each time I recall, as I’ve done today, that there’s really no place I’d rather have him be.  In the hand of the Lord, anywhere in the world, is the safest and best place to be.   He’s there ministering to the saints, visiting different remote villages and participating in ministering and teaching in Bible seminars.  The opportunities have been a great source of joy and blessing to him as he spends time with old friends and new.  So you see how I could not wish for him to be here and miss all that.

Once again my heart is filled with thanksgiving — knowing I don’t deserve the great honour and privilege of all these years of motherhood.   My thoughts linger here tonight… thankful for  a son who’s in the gracious and merciful hand of the Lord.  God’s been so very kind to Timothy.

May you always be blessed. ♥

Quintessential Motherhood

Throughout that week I wondered what the LORD would have me to write for that week’s letter.  And so, in an attempt to prepare a letter, I sat down to write.  Distractions, buzzers, timers, calls, the dryer’s beep-beep-beep, and the knocking at the back door… distractions.  And then I thought: distractions?  No: life.  Life is what’s happening when we’re waiting and planning for something else to happen.  And then I thought on this further and wondered: is this the story of my motherhood experience?  Has it all happened while I was waiting for something else to happen?  Have the days passed by while I was looking for a brighter tomorrow and a better way of doing things?   While hurry-scurrying around, gathering, sorting, washing, folding, packing… suddenly the time comes for a departure.

Suddenly the time-clock runs out and this game is over or the hour comes.  This is quintessential motherhood.

I came inside from the chilly porch where I hugged one of our sons and waved him good-bye-for-now.  As he drove away, the darkness giving way to light and the early morning sun casting a pink glow on the snow, tears flooded my eyes and instantly, all the compelling rush was completely forgotten in the haze of the exhaust and the taillights slowly dimming in the distance. I stood there in the cold-still waving… the asl sign for i-love-you… and found myself wondering—questioning what significant thing had I contributed to that remarkable boy’s life?  Was there anything noteworthy?  All at once  I thought of many things I’d forgotten to remember—things I suddenly realized I meant to say.  Memories instantly flooded my mind — sort of like those endearing slideshows you see at weddings — the emotionally gripping photos that chronicle lives and bring tears and laughter simultaneously one frame after another.

Part of the calling of motherhood is that there will be suffering.  There will be days of joy and sorrow.  Sort of that paradoxical truth that in every adversity there is triumph and in every joy there is an inextricable mix of delight and sorrow.  The sorrow part is the part we didn’t read in the fine print.  The sorrow part is one of the consequences of endearment –one of the consequences I didn’t perhaps expect when I first received the confirmation call from the doctor’s office or when we first saw the indicator lines in the home-pregnancy test kit.  No, in those days, we had no idea what lay ahead, what tears we’d shed or how many sleepless nights we’d spend waiting and walking.  Waiting for a child to return home or walking a crying baby from one end of the living room to the other: round and round.

No, in the early days, we had no idea what lay in store a few years down the road.  We had no grasp of where those first baby-steps would take those feet.  We had no concept that snow-tires would eventually replace those training wheels.  Even now, I probably have no real grasp of what the consequences of motherhood are.  Just as I can’t fathom the exhilaration of tremendous joy, I can’t fathom the plummeting sorrow—both are those inexplicable consequences of endearment and motherhood.

I’ve often said I wasn’t prepared for these years—the gripping anguish of regret and disappointment, the overwhelming joy proud moments bring and the unstoppable ticking of the clock and the turning of the calendar pages.  It seems new calendars are purchased more frequently now.  But in reality, nothing and everything prepared me for these days. The LORD has been with me, guiding, abiding and upholding me —preparing me for each of the next days He’d bring.  The preparation has been in the living. Bidding farewell to passing seasons and ushering in new ones prepares us for these goodbyes.

It’s quintessential motherhood: fully experiencing of all the seasons over and over. Experience, history… photographs and memories all prepare us for these goodbyes. As I look out at the morning glow on the snow… and then at the leafless, frost covered branches of my weeping willow tree, there’s sort of a melancholy hopeful looking forward to what this day will bring and how I’ll one day look back on this day.

I smile as I realize that with every good bye… there’s a welcome home.  In the end, the true joy is looking to the ultimate welcome home.

May you always be blessed.