I plopped on the couch in exhaustion. The house was finally quiet and still. We had just finished the drama of bedtime routines with our three young children.
“Every day feels like a marathon,” I complained to my husband.
As I let myself relax, I realized this was the first time I sat down all day. I recounted my to do list – nearly everything was left unchecked. How could I be so tired and have so little to show for it?
Sure, there was breakfast and teeth brushing, grocery pick-up and the park, sandwiches for lunch and clean up, laundry, Legos, dinner, dishes, and an impromptu dance party before bed. I answered 1,000 questions, turned on 5 episodes of Daniel Tiger, opened fruit snacks, cut apples, and peeled oranges. But did I really accomplish anything important?
Motherhood is a beautiful, indescribable gift. But it can also make us feel weary and lonely.
Our busy hands toil, but our work is often unseen. When a string of sleepless nights add up to exhaustion, when everyone else seems to be better at mothering than we are, when our children and homes are far from perfect, what is the hope that sustains us?
Weary Mama, this is the truth: every mundane moment, every little sacrifice, every small detail that requires our help points our children, and others, to the Good Father.
Mothering is the sacred work of modeling the heart of God.
Psalm 9:3-4 (ESV) says, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”
David marvels, as we do, that the God of the Universe, the Creator of the planets, the holy one who set each star in place with a single breath, thinks about us.
Not only does He think about us, He cares for us.
In His great power He is not distant. In His omnipotence, He is not unavailable. Though He is capable of wonder beyond our imagination, He invests His majesty into the small and messy details of our lives.
That means that every time a mother sets aside her own desires for the good of her child, she looks like her Father.
Every time a mother quietly sacrifices her sleep, energy, time, or sanity for something small and helpless, she looks like her Father.
Every time a mother makes lunches, folds tiny clothes, ties shoes, wipes a nose, presses on a band aid and a kiss, she looks like her Father.
She points to heaven every single time she thinks about and cares for the small, helpless, and weak.
So, take heart, fellow moms, and rest.
Yes, every day may be a marathon. Yes, this is hard work. Yes, this season is a jumble of chaos, messes, and sleep deprivation. Yes, we may not have checked a single thing off our list today. But, even when our to do list doesn’t change, our accomplishments are valuable, sacred, holy, and eternal.