Mothers

 
  In honor of Mother's Day, my post today is a tribute to mothers.  Maybe it's a little self-serving, since I am a mother--I should probably leave it to all the non-mothers out there to write the tributes, but you really cannot fully understand motherhood until you become a part of it.  Everyone agrees that mothers are selfless and hard working.  Everyone holds the role of motherhood in high esteem.  But, I don't think that those that haven't experienced it TRULY know and understand the sacrifice and the joy that comes with motherhood.

    Fathers love and sacrifice for their children.  But, it's different.  It's not politically correct anymore to say it's different, but it is.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying mothers are better, or more important...but it's different.  Motherhood comes with scars.  There are the physical scars...the stretch marks, the c-section scars, the dark circles under your eyes, the gray hairs, those little wrinkles between your eyes.   There are also emotional scars...when you're a mother, it's never just you again.  There is an emotional connection with your child (whether they want it or not) that you can feel...it's almost tangible.  You can cut the cord physically, but never emotionally.  It is like there is a part of you walking around in the world and you want so badly to protect it, love it, make everything okay for it.  You hurt with them, rejoice with them, worry with them (and for them).    You dream for them, and hope and pray.  You fully invest yourself in the well-being of someone else.  That is what is so beautiful about motherhood.  It is a picture of God's love.  It is a glimpse of how God wants us to be.

   Mothers have gone through morning sickness, pregnancy, swollen ankles, labor, delivery, all night feedings, and potty training.  We wake up in the middle of the night and pray for our kids.  Mothers must be experts on discipline, education, nutrition, illness, exercise, and matters of faith.  We rarely sleep, usually eat our toddler's left-overs while doing the dishes, we meet our friends for lunch at McDonald's, when we'd rather go to the sophisticated tea-room.  We go to t-ball games, guitar lessons, ballet recitals and boy scouts...when what we'd love to do more than anything is sit down somewhere quiet.  We teach our kids how to get along with friends and teachers and the grumpy cafeteria monitor. We often have to be the bad guy.  We take away toys and video games; we won't let them watch that movie or this tv show, even though "every other kid gets to do it."  We teach them to dress themselves, tie their shoes, brush their teeth.  We teach them their colors and how to manage money and keep things neat.  We teach them their letters and that God loves them.

     We hold them when they're scared, kiss them when they're hurt, snuggle with them when they're tired and spank them when they misbehave.  We do it all knowing that some day they will walk out our door for good to lead their own life.  All we can hope is that we've raised them well.  As hard as this job is, I know I'll be sad when it's over.  A friend of mine once told me that when you are a mother, the days are long, but the years are short.  It is very true.

   Finally, being a mother reveals to you life's greatest secret.  It is a secret that so few are truly able to understand.  True joy, true love comes when you stop doing what is good for yourself and start doing what is good for others.  That is the joy of motherhood...it is hard and tedious and painful, but it brings so much joy.

Sometimes, when I think about the scars being a mother has left...my stretch marks, my gray hair, the brain cells lost to sleepless nights, I ache for a younger version of myself.  But, if I get some perspective, I can see that they are badges of honor.   I should be proud, not ashamed.  They are reminders, that I have given of myself sacrificially for another human being, and that is the greatest thing we can do in this life.