Before nap: mac n cheese made a little on the runny side dropped by little hands and splattered ALL over the kitchen floor. I mean ALL over. ALL OVER.
Four passes over with the mop and still looked bad, and as I mop the last section of the floor I knock over the box of watercolor paints we had used right before lunch. WET paint.
Someone hides from nap, and in the haste of fleeing from her bedroom knocks over a planter with several plants in it. Upside down on the floor.
I needed to vacuum anyways.
Kid safely and unhappily in her room yelling and playing instead of napping, and I sit down and read this:
“But Jesus looked at them and said, ‘with men this is impossible, but with GOD all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26
Obviously I knew being a mom would be hard. But I wasn’t, and never could’ve been, prepared for the dichotomy of overflowing joy and fulfillment mingled with the constancy of failure. Of never measuring up in the one thing that has my whole heart tied up.
It is impossible to find our fulfillment in motherhood. “With men this is impossible.” If we forget where our hope comes from, forget WHO fulfills and gives life and love, our life will be measured and defined by the curves and valleys and potholes in the road.
BUT WITH GOD ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE. With God we are not defined by the messiest day.
Motherhood is not a still picture of me exhausted, cleaning up messes, with my toddler crying from her room “you are mean!”.
With God all things are possible.
My motherhood is an evolving calligraphy: valleys and peaks and swirls molded by time spent on my knees in prayer, kissing tears, holding hands and cheering on. The hard parts are there yes, but they are beauty because they are earned and fought for in the blessing of motherhood.
We are not defined by the messiest day. We are defined by God: set apart for beauty and fullness that lasts no matter the mess we are currently vacuuming. With God all things are possible.