Having really small children never really stressed me out. A room full of two year olds was comfort for me. I remember one day pulling our mini van into the parking space at church, and I looked over and saw a family walking from their car to the sidewalk. I remember thinking, "look at ALL those kids!" In my head I counted, Mom, Dad, one, two, three, four. Wait... What? Only four? Why does that family look so BIG? As I started unloading my children from their car-seats I was again counting in my head. One, two, three, four, five. Oh my gosh, my family seemed so small to me. Those kids on that other family looked like so many! I'm not very good at math, and now I know I am not so great at perspective either.
Small children I got. Small children, plus me, equals patience, patience, patience. The physical demands were more, but I loved it. The damage to my body to grow, shrink, grow, shrink, grow shrink (well you get the idea) and sustain 5 other lives,well, bring it on! No sleep? It's my pleasure. Potty training, endless accidents, temper tantrums, pink eye, ear infections, It's nothing but a thing. I was made for this! But here's the really funny part. Those babies, they grow into TEENAGERS! And this mama wasn't wired for that! Having young children was in my comfort zone. Because of that it appeared seamless. I didn't feel like the "perfect" mom, but other's admiration in me, for handling a large family so effortlessly, certainly made me feel like I was worthy. Worthy of my family, of my friends and of God.
What I wouldn't realize until my children became teenagers, was that grace was waiting for my imperfect self, in all it's glory.
When my kids were still small, I was asked to lead the youth group at church. I thought well, how bad could it be? I wanted to serve and if that's where they needed me, okay. I lasted one night! I'm not kidding you. the next day I remember begging to be put in the two year old room. I couldn't take the drama. I couldn't take the immaturity. (funny because we all know how mature 2 year olds are.) Confiding in a friend over coffee, I told her, "You just can't imagine how horrible teenagers are!" She looked at me and smiled, "You know someday you will have 5 of them!"
And teenagers they became. I can't tell you the number of times as each of my kids navigated through their teenage years, that I called my friend in tears and said matter of factly through sobs and wails, "I can't do this." "I'm failing." Nothing about teenagers was easy for me. The bag of tricks that had worked so well for me, failed me. A hug and a band-aid couldn't fix a broken heart. Tickling them couldn't change a frown into giggles, and man was I so tired trying to stay awake till they came home at curfew time. I was a fish out of water, but every ounce of me was drowning.
But here is where grace steps in, finding it's way through all the cracks in my shattered perfectionism. When I plop on the couch at my parents house and declare, "I CANT survive this last teenager!" my parents laugh and say, "Your doing just fine," a little grace seeps in. When a friend puts her arms around me and says, "I know just how you feel," a little more grace seeps in. When my oldest daughter says, "Mom, you did a great job with me. Everything will work out," a little more grace falls upon me.
Here is where the verse in Hebrews 4:16 makes all the sense to this flailing mom. "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." There is nothing left to do but fall on my knees. I have come to the end of my ability, and that is where God can get the glory. His grace washes over me and I learn compassion. His arms hold me, and in failure, I learn tenderness. He picks me up and sets me on my right path and I learn dependence and trust. In my failures God is strong. When I am at my weakest, God is strongest. God can take my mess and turn it into a message. The message is "Love each other, as I have loved you." John 15:12
Wow, The grace that God so freely and abundantly pours over me, I am called to pour over others. Others who struggle like me. Others who feel like failures. Others who fall well below our own measure stick.
I realize being worthy has nothing to do with what I can do in my own strength, and everything to do with Jesus. And to really prove His point, He tells us in 2 Corinthians 12:19 "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." The funny thing about grace is when I accept God's grace in my own life, I can give myself grace. When I have grace for myself, I can then give grace to to others.
Doing what comes natural and easy for me does not make me grow. It does not conform me to the image of Christ. Doing something perfect does not strengthen my dependence on God. It gives me all the praise. Doing it out of my own strength, praises the alter of me. God in his infinite wisdom allows me to struggle just enough to turn to him. Perhaps He also knows, that my humble heart, will turn to other moms and offer them the beautiful gift of grace. Babies, toddlers, teenagers, this lasts for only a season, but the road ahead has many more speed bumps to navigate through. So serve yourself up a big plate of grace and settle in for the ride.