I feel like mothers live in this thick divide between pure, unadulterated bliss on one side, and absolute helplessness on the other.
Motherhood is a mix like that.
One minute you feel content, full, pleased with what you’ve wrought. The next you feel like your whole life has been one big slew of wrong choices, wrong methods, wrong everything.
Our cherubs, and our world, can do that to us.
A few weeks back, as I sat at my desk for a quick morning quiet time, my heart gathered up all it could from Psalm 86. I was having a particularly difficult week, especially as a mom and wife, so when I reached verse four I cracked wide open….
Gladden the soul of your servant, for to you, O Lord, do I lift up my soul.
I pictured my hands up and cupped…
holding my faintly beating heart in my palms…
holding it out for divine surgery.
David’s written prayer matched the unspoken prayer of my insides and I felt known, I felt like nodding, I felt like I had found my prayer and petition for this season.
You too?
Has there been some darkness that’s smothering all but an inch of your air?
Have people’s words and actions and immaturities left you daggered and shunned and shocked?
Do you feel as if you’ve done it all wrong? And that nothing is how you imagined it?
Has the thrill of past achievements and experiences waned?
Have recent predicaments cast a cloud of insecurity, doubt, and dread over your heart and countenance?
While more measures may indeed need to be taken, start here:
Shutting the door for a moments reprieve, kneeling down on shaky joints, opening up your heart to the heavens, spill forth this honest plea…
God, gladden the soul of your servant.
And then sit. With it all wide open, wait and listen. If He speaks, write it down. If He swarms you with comfort, remain in it. If He is silent, know that He still sees.
Even yesterday morning at church, my husband reminded us all that God is at work in the unseen realm. While our natural eyes may only see disaster, armies of angels are at war for your good and His glory.
Gladden us up, God. Give us some sort of deep joy and calm as you minister to our splintered hearts. Make us robust where we are feeble, overflow where we are empty, wise where we are foolish, informed where we are believing untruths, able where we feel despondent. Stitch up our hearts and send us out renewed and grateful.
I’m believing in all this for you and for me, dear reader.
Lord, yes and amen.
My cubs are grown, but I still feel the mama bear rear up when one of them is hurting, especially when the pain comes from unexpected sources. I reminded this one that God is working even when we can’t see Him. Thank you for reminding me,too.