Hey friend,
I was not at my best the other night.
We’re in a season of multiple, middle-of-the-night wake-ups. Most nights it’s just one child in particular (ahem… Ellie), and other nights it's like a sleepy game of whack-a-mole. One head pops up by my bed, then one comes running into our room, then one gives a cry from their bed.
Emma came heavy breathing to my side of the bed the other night. This is her preferred method of waking me up. Breathing loudly by my ear. Turns out she had a bad dream, so I prayed for her from the comfort of my covers and then told her to go back to her room. At this point, we entered into a whisper battle. She wanted me to walk her. I wanted to stay in my warm bed. I believe at one point I told her she’d have to sleep in the hallway if she was too afraid to go into her room by herself.
Sigh.
I caved and grumpily walked her back, leaving her at the door of her room, which resulted in (of course) tears. I went back to bed, lay there, and thought about all the childhood trauma I’m causing her and how she’s going to be in counseling someday because of me. Needless to say, I did not get much sleep before the next mole child popped up.
It’s impossible to enter into the world of parenthood without receiving endless amounts of advice. Whether it’s the sweet old granny in the grocery store who pats your arm and tells you to enjoy every moment (while your children are pulling cereal off the shelves), or the unsolicited Instagram reel promising “8 ways to raise emotionally stable children,” there is always something telling us how to do our part to make sure our kids aren’t raised to be as broken as we are.
There are scripts to memorize, words to avoid, and sprays to spray. (Ok no sprays, but wouldn’t that be nice?)
Parenting is like seeing your mannerisms, quirks, and, yup, sin, mirrored right back at you. It’s reading all the opinions and advice and realizing there is no way we can walk through this journey with our kids unscathed. Our jagged edges are poking them and their rough spots are wearing us thin.
I just wonder if we have it all upside down. What if, instead of focusing so hard on not messing them up, we remembered who is actually in control? What if, instead of dwelling on our shortcomings or worrying about the future of our children, we leaned into the grace of God, knowing He is using our brokenness bumping up against our children’s brokenness to shape both us and them?
Before having kids, I thought I was doing pretty good on the sin scale. I’m a relatively calm person, I thought I was pretty humble and I would have considered myself a selfless person.
And then we brought humans into the world and I discovered that I am actually not any of those things. I can be pretty rage-y, my high horse is apparently alive and well, and I cling to every piece of self I can get my hands on. My kids didn’t do that to me, but they sure brought a new awareness to the condition of my heart.
“The law was brought so that the trespass might increase, but where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Romans 5:20-21
This verse can sound confusing at first, like the law somehow created sin or made people worse. But Paul is saying that God’s law revealed what was already there. Like turning on a bright light in a messy room, it exposed the sin that had been hiding in the corners of the human heart. The mess was already there. The light just made it visible.
And honestly, motherhood can feel like that kind of light. My kids did not create my impatience, pride, selfishness, or anger. They just have a special way of revealing what was already tucked away in my heart.
But the more my sin is revealed, the more God’s grace increases.
He has grace for us, and He has grace for our children. That realization shifts the focus from all the ways we are failing our children to, wow, God is working even in this.
That’s what I want to dwell on. Not another piece of advice or another mistake, but the truth that God is at work. He is working in my frustration over sleepless nights, in my fear of getting it all wrong, and in whatever trait I am desperately hoping does not pass along to my kids.
His grace is increasing.
In it with you,
Lizi
P.S. If a friend came to mind while you were reading, feel free to forward this along.