(A side note–these first few entries might seem like nice, neat little packages of ideas more than real struggles–that’s because there are a few issues I’ve been grappling with for about 6 months that I want to write about. After I’m done with those, I have no idea what will come to mind, so there might be some more unanswered questions.)
I’ll never forget a conversation I had with a dear friend one day. She’ll remain nameless unless she’d like to comment and admit speaking this awesome truth to me. (If she even remembers!) I was telling her how every time Christopher throws a tantrum, it makes me so upset, because I feel like a failure as a mom. Honestly, I was expecting some reassuring words. Instead, she said that I am a failure as a mom. Ouch. (I promise she’s a lot nicer than she sounds at the moment.)
She went on to remind me of the truth of the Gospel, and what I took from the conversation is this: I am a failure as a mom, because I am a sinner. I fail my kids and my husband every day. But Christ lived the life that I couldn’t live, and because His perfect record has been given to me, I don’t have to run from the fact that I am a failure, try to cover it up, ignore it, etc. This may sound strange, but it was such a freeing conversation for me. Because for most of my life, I have been going to great lengths to avoid being a failure, and even greater lengths to keep anyone else from seeing any failures that may occur. Instead, I should be admitting my failures to myself and others, letting those failures point to my need for Christ and increase my reliance upon His grace.
How does this play out in my every day life? Well, most of the time, it doesn’t. I still have the natural tendency to shy away from failure whenever possible. There are rare occasions, which I wish were more frequent, when I can use my failures to point myself and my sons to my need for Christ. For example, one day Christopher was losing it for absolutely no reason, and it really set me off. I yelled at him to go to his room, so both of us could calm down. A few minutes later, I went up to talk to him and found him sitting in his room, crying. When I opened the door, he looked up and said, “Mommy, do you forgive me?” I tell you, I felt like the most worthless piece-of-crap mom in the world. I held Christopher in my lap and repeated the words I have told him several times already: “Christopher, I forgive you, and I need you to forgive me. I was wrong to yell at you, and I’m sorry. I can’t be a good Mommy to you all by myself. I need Jesus to help me be a good Mommy. I wasn’t letting Jesus help me just now, and I’m sorry.” I can only pray that God will use my failures for the good of my kids, to point them to their own need for Christ for their salvation and their growing in Christ-likeness.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10: But he [the Lord] said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
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