Oh Mother’s Day…..I don’t really like you and I’m not sure why. I even looked it up and it’s really only like a 50yr old tradition. Lucky mankind that before never had to stress about it, right?
It’s the materialism of the world pushing against the sweetness of homemade scribbled cards, leaving me with a fuzzy brain unable to compute whether or not I feel appreciated or just blatantly aware of my husbands relief at surviving another card-expected occasion.
But the truth is, as I think on this dreary monday morning, I’m not sure I want to be “appreciated” for the sole reason that it seems forced and expected, like a duty that must be performed or mommy feels sad/angry. People that don’t even get along with their mothers give SPA packages, jewelry, flowers.
So I am left this morning thinking…..what would make me feel truly appreciated? What would it take? Where does my value come from? What do I do all of this for? And what’s the point in washing a grown man’s clothes anyways?
And the only answer I can find is….
– My value can only come from the Lord or I am left wanting a gold medal/feeling empty. Who He says I am (deeply loved individual), and what He promises me (that He will never leave no matter how hard it gets and that He will change my temper and my ungrateful heart).
– My value is in Him is more than enough. He has created me and prepared me specifically for this awesome role of being a mom for two adorable (although crazy) kiddos. I have to mentally choose to consider it a priviledge, and think back on the ways recently that He has shown His appreciation for the work that I do. His appreciation comes in small ways, like the way they play so well together (75% of the time) and how Noah slips his arm around Zoey protectively when they were waiting in line at the fair. The way they always fight for my attention and constantly want me to see their accomplishments and new tricks “LOOK WHAT I CAN DO!!!.” It’s in the way they only want me when they are hurt, the way they light up when I pick them up at preschool, the flatters (weeds) they pick for me, the constant artwork on my fridge they draw for me, the slobbery kisses I get when I am tucking them in bed while they have no clue that I am so tired I could drop. It’s in the memories I have of the first time I ever saw their face, heard them cry–The awe I felt when I first got to hold them in my arms-I can’t even begin to describe how much love I felt for them instantly.
THOSE are the things I have to cling to so I don’t feel ungrateful, left-out, taken for granted. Because I truly don’t think they take me for granted…they just are confident that I will always be there to love them and want me around for now. 😉