This Mothering Thing Is Hard

I was on my knees in my bedroom, praying. Tears were streaming down and dampening the carpet beneath me. Even though I felt as if I was over reacting from a moment, earlier, I also felt like I had bottled a lot of my mothering fears up, and was ready to just dump them out before the Lord. I could feel that He was listening, so I was taking advantage of His time.

It had been a bad mothering day. Nothing monumental occurred, but just one more day of doubting myself. Wondering HOW I would handle some of the things that were coming my way in parenting. On the surface I seem confident to my children. I seem like I have ALL the answers, but even with this facade the boys will test me. I just hope that I don't appear doubtful when making my point. (They can smell weakness...LOL) By the end of our debate I felt weathered. I was sick of trying to figure out the answers to life's problems. I just wanted to have a cup of hot tea, and worry about teaching my 6 year old addition and subtraction. When did life become so complicated?

I called Den to tell him about the situation. He told me he would pray for me, but I know I sounded defeated. It wasn't until I sat on the chair in my bedroom, stoning my heart up, that I realized I was going about it all wrong. I was trying to do this all on my own. I was feeling like I was failing because I didn't always have the solutions for the problems that would arise with my teens. It was like a mini conversation went on in my head; fall down on your knees, humble yourself, bring your problems to me. So I did, and when I did I gushed like a dam that was on the brink of destruction.

After I cleansed myself before the Lord I headed downstairs. I figured that I had my heart in the right place, and that I would just have to let the rest fall by the wayside. However, the Lord had worked in my son's heart too. He came to me, apologized, and put his arms around me. Our argument wasn't over anything important, it was more of a power struggle. A boy flexing his proverbial muscles, and me, reminding him of his place. It was a small power of the wills that at the end of it all was mentally exhausting. I don't always have the answers. I don't always feel prepared on any given day, at any given moment. There are days I wonder what I am doing homeschooling, sacrificing the peace and quiet of my home only to have these sorts of run-ins. It's only when I go to my Heavenly Father that He takes us by the hand, and works in our hearts. This is the VERY reason I do homeschool, when I really think about it. To take these opportunities to help fine tune their hearts, and give the Lord opportunity to work with us; to mold us. That through these moments we can talk about our heart, our place in this life, and how God views us. As long as we can get to the right end result (which is only reached through the Lord's help), but when we get there how ground breaking it is. It's a moment of triumph, that at the end of my mothering years I can feel good about. Teaching them how to do math and stuff is important, but molding them in to who God wants them to be is the real goal. It is difficult, and there are times that I feel like maybe I haven't made any headway. It's not until the Lord steps in that I can see a change in their heart that is critical into turning them in to good men for the Lord. I am not equipped alone. I have my own flesh to battle, but the Lord really cares. These are his sons too, and when He steps in and I step back, the results melt, even, me.

So at the end of the day it was a good day. It was a draining day, but a very good day.