Tuesday, September 4, 2012

On Growing Up A Mother

I've been thinking a lot about becoming a mother lately.

For the longest time, I thought that becoming a mother happened when that squirmy, red, wrinkled baby was placed in my arms for the first time.  Like an instantaneous flash that took me from being a child to raising a child.  In a single moment, the transformation was complete.

And in alot of ways, it was.  As any mother can attest to, the second your flesh and blood begins breathing and thriving, your life is not your own.  Lived out in acts of selflessness that is sometimes hard to comprehend until faced with such a moment, motherhood does fully encompass you in ways you never dreamed possible from that very first second.

Yet I'm seeing now that motherhood, much like childhood, is not a static moment, forever frozen in time, measured by the date on the calendar or the time on the clock.  Rather, motherhood is a journey, a process, an ever changing rhythm of life that ebbs and flows and bends and stretches.

And I feel like I'm just beginning.

This one turned 10 a few days ago.

I have been wrestling with this for months.  Not that she could possibly be 10, because she absolutely can.  She is beautiful and precious, smart and witty.  Funny and fun and everything 10 promises to be.  No, I am not surprised that she is 10.

What surprises me is that I've been a mother for that long.

It's prompted me to think back over my life for the last decade.  It's begged me to reflect on my growth, as a mother, as a person.  It's shown me how the first decade was only the beginning, the groundwork laying phase for the real work ahead.

What a beautiful gift I've been given, to grow up a child from that squirmy, red, wrinkled infant to a beautiful, confident young lady who loves Jesus and is embracing her place in this world.  And what an honor to grow up myself, on this journey called motherhood.  For I am not the same person I was when that infant was placed in my arms.  I may not have yet arrived, or figured it all out, but I am confident on my journey, always seeking God's wisdom and grace for the days that lie ahead.

Thank you, my precious, for growing me into the mother God intended for me to be.  I am not perfect (although you already know that).  I promise I am going to make mistakes along the way.  I promise that in the days, months and years ahead there will be many times you will not agree with me, appreciate me, or even like me very much.  I promise that you will do things that will drive me crazy, or drive me to my knees.  But I also promise that through it all my love for you will never ever falter.  I promise that I will always be your confidante, your biggest supporter, your best friend.  As you walk through the years called childhood, I walk through the years called motherhood.  And I cannot think of any other person I would rather experience this journey with, my dear first born.  



  1. You're making me cry. Today was not a great day. Yelling, no screaming was involved. And while I was doing it I was telling myself that I was overreacting. What happened did not warrant my response. Yet, I couldn't shut up. I apologized straight after. Only to do it again a little later. And a little later. Lather, rinse, repeat.
    Thank you for reminding me its a journey, and don't you usually grow on journeys? Thank God for that.


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