I wonder how many young women realize they start a “hero's journey” when they become moms. Not just mothers with exceptional challenges but also mothers with typical children, stay-at-home moms and those who work full time. Each of them has what the heroes aret made.
PFor a long time I did not believe it, I had experienced the dramatic side of the hero's story. Our oldest daughter, Penny, was diagnosed with Down Syndrome (Trisomy 21) and it took me a whole year to survive amidst my doubts and sadness. I came out of there transformed, with a deeper appreciation for the gift of every human life and a greater understanding that the intellect does not determine the worth of an individual.
Then our son William was born, and a few years later his sister Marilee, and the ordinary challenges of parenting arose. The doubts, fear and sadness I experienced at the thought of parenting "typical" children seemed shameful to me. After Penny's birth, people brought me meals, prayed for us, and understood me if I didn't answer the phone or miss Sunday morning worship. With normal children nobody was going to help me if the children did not sleep at night. I was worried about whether people would accept that I missed my Sunday school and church commitments.
Now that our children are older and have left the constant cycle of ear infections and sore throats, that they have left car seats and high chairs, I see that the journey of normal education offers a story of its own. of change and growth. It is a call to sacrifice, even if it was only a sacrifice of time and physical endurance. Sacrifice is always a form of trial, when it emerges from love, it has the power to renew us.
At the start of my life as a mother of three, I tried to carry on as if nothing had changed. I tried to keep my activities and my volunteer commitments. I tried to work 4 hours a day. I have tried to pray regularly and systematically. I tried to ignore what I heard from older mothers telling me that there are seasons in life and this season with small children is a time to slow down. But I saw “slowing down” as a sign of defeat, I couldn't bring myself to believe that everything God had entrusted to me came down to these three children.
I have tried to maintain my professional goals, my physical and spiritual discipline, and my commitments to the local church. Finally between the sick days, sleepless nights and all the ordinary demands I broke down under the weight of the everyday and watched everything crumble around me. However, the ordinary ordeal of changing another diaper, seeing a new episode of "The Donkey TroTro" with a sick child and listening to the laborious learning of a piano lesson again helped me understand nature of love and the nature of grace.
Strangely enough, it was having children that helped me recognize myself as a child of God. When I couldn't handle it all, when I needed help in the midst of this ordinary ordeal, I began to understand God's compassion and care for me. Any parent who loves a child with sacrificial love will be shattered and in the midst of that shattering can be rebuilt. By meeting one obstacle after another, falling, getting up and learning something entirely new about life, about love while being renewed along the way.
Amy julia becker
source: Christianity Today
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