Mother Thoughts from the Blessed Moon

By now, you know the STORY of the Mother Letter Project. See the FAQs for more information.

Every Friday, we would like to post a guest’s Mother Thoughts. Today’s guest is Patty from Blessed Moon. Patty’s blog makes me wish she were my real life in the flesh friend. She has a minimalist’s tendencies and shares gorgeous pictures. 

Send an email to motherletter@gmail.com if you’re interested in posting your own Mother Thoughts, whether or not you’re a mother.

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Be “…a joyous mother of children.” (Psalm 113:9)

I rapped hard on the nursery window. How could they?! All those babies, their tiny faces gone into the abyss of their wide-open mouths, screaming and surely, scared. They all looked the same; I had to check their names… and there he was, my Austin, my second child… unswaddled, arms and legs beat red and flailing. And, oh that cry! You could hear the tremble in it. He could barely breathe, gasping for breaths, and letting loose with that trembling scream. Welcome to the world, little man.

She brought him through the doors in a wheeled bassinet, apologetically smiling and trying to explain, but it was lost on me. She checked our hospital bands, and I angrily tore my wrist free of her grasp. My lower body was still tingling with the return of sensation, and I had to check my steps to be sure my feet were on the ground. I turned away, my focus fully on this little life in the plastic box in front of me. I placed my hand on his chest; it fully covered his torso. I leaned close and barely spoke, “It’s okay, Austin. Mommy’s here.” And as my voice reached his ears, he quieted instantly. His unseeing eyes opened wide, as if he were searching, “I know that voice. That’s my safe place.”

In that instant, my son and I bonded, and I became his mother. I knew at that moment, that I would do anything to protect him, to nurture him, to provide for him.

It’s almost 13 years later. He’s my middle child. We have our moments, he and I, as is true with my older son and younger daughter. I am a mother. And after 14 years of this, I am struggling. I think of my aspirations, my God-given gifts, and I think that surely, my life was meant for more than doing dirty laundry, cooking meals that are sometimes met with “ewwww!”, and cleaning a house. It’s the same day, day in and day out, without end. The tasks are never completed and I am often left without a sense of accomplishment. Surely God intended more for me.

And then I think “more” ? Really? More than nurturing and growing these children, soon-to-be young adults? What could be more important than that? And then, I remember that moment when the world welcomed him so unkindly, so carelessly… Nurses too busy chatting and documenting and tending to their tasks to pay attention to what was truly important in that room. He was left in a cold, plastic box, exposed and unprotected from the new world into which he was born… No warmth, no shelter, no support, no love.

So, today, I change my focus from my tasks to what is truly important in this house. It is more important that I give my children smiles to wear, than it is to give them clean clothes. It is more important that their spirits and intellect are fed, than it is to spend hours in the kitchen cooking lavish meals for their stomachs. It is more important that they are at home and comfortable within themselves, than it is for them to be provided a perfectly clean home in which to live and play. Yes, these are the reasons why I am where I am… because for these three little souls, no one else can do it better. He lent them to me, because I have the specific talents and skills and qualities to raise them right, to raise them the way they need. My abilities as a loving mother to raise these three are God’s greatest gifts to me, next to the time that He is lending me to share with them. This is what God intended for me, and for this, I am now grateful.

Tagged as: Mother Thoughts