Dying Hurts

     "Mom, can you come mark my math test?"

     "Mom, are you coming to check my room?"

     "Mom, when is supper?"

     The final question pushed me over my selfish edge and caused the eruption I had been trying hard to contain . . .
    
     Is it possible to hold in the lava of exasperation forever?  BUT did my children deserve to see me frustrated? 

     I'm humbled to say that I slammed down the computer mouse and stomped into the kitchen to finish supper.  All day--and I mean--ALL DAY, I felt like I'd been cast into the role of Cinderella, desperately trying to finish my tasks so that I could "go to the Ball".  The irony is that "my Ball" simply represented a few moments alone to finish a writing assignment, not exactly thrilling or magical, just important to me.  But no matter how I had served others and tried to get everything done, it hadn't been enough.

     The words of Jesus flashed through my mind -- I'm called to deny myself, take up my cross and follow Him; although I'd been following in the meager offering of serving my family, I'd allowed the thought to creep in around my service that I DESERVED a break. 
    
     Oh, those dangerous thoughts that can be justified so easily!

     The ending of the story is better than the beginning -- I put supper on the table and took time to make things right with those I had hurt with my miserable attitude and seek the forgiveness of those I love. 

     Still, I despised the fact that I had "lost it" with them -- those sweet faces around the supper table -- the ones I love more than life itself.  That night I felt the weight of my selfishness.

     The greatest conviction always comes after the lights go out -- do you find that? 

     It's once the prayers are said, the love you forever words are shared, and the doors are closed that it feels the heaviest -- these are the times I run to God and pour out my desperate need for Him to change me inside.  Without Him I realize I am just a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal as it says in I Corinthians 13.

     The famous missionary, Amy Carmichael, is quoted for words that every mother can relate to, "Missionary life is simply a chance to die!"  Is that not the truth for us as mothers, too?  If we replace the words "missionary life" with "motherhood", it's the same truth . . .

     Motherhood is simply a chance to die!  Daily!

     This is the call -- this is what God asks of us as mothers, and nothing less.  There is only one problem -- DYING HURTS!  When we "signed up" for mothering, most of us thought we had a pretty good idea of what we were getting into, but did we really?  No, and it's a good thing.  But would you trade it for anything?  I hope that is also a resounding NO!

     This is not just a call -- this is the greatest call!  As mothers, we are called to die daily in the places where selfishness still reigns, in order that God may continue to develop in us a reflection of His glory.  This is no small privilege and likewise it is no small process.  So let's keep permitting God to work on the places that sting and pinch and hurt -- He is doing a great thing in US!

"He who began a good work

in YOU will carry it on to

completion until the day of
Christ Jesus."

Philippians 1:6