The tears rolled down my face as I struggled to make sense of it all.
I can always fix things, and this was something that I just couldn’t fix. And it bothered me so much.
I was tired.
I was really tired.
Being a mother is probably one of the most difficult paths my young life has ventured down. It is so rewarding and filled with unconditional love. But I would be dishonest if I didn’t say that there are times where I have no idea what I’m doing. And I don’t know how to fix everything.
I am human, and we always try to keep things in our control, in our perspective.
But for the first time, I was on my knees, next to my bed, with no idea of how to control a situation.
Kids are wonderful. They give the best kisses and hugs. Hearing “I love you” melts your heart. And their laughter can fill your soul.
But they are hard too. They are strong-willed, stubborn. They are wild and free. They are emotional.
They are the true tests of patience. And on that evening, I had lost all of mine.
I felt like a failure. I felt like I wasn’t living up to my end of the bargain as a mother. I felt challenged. And yes, I felt worn.
A few minutes and frustrated tears later, I pulled out a prayer that I discovered earlier. It was a prayer from a woman, just like me. She was a mother of three, two of them little boys. And she completely understood what I was feeling at that time.
Normally, I admit, that I pray to God that he fix something that I can’t seem to do on my own. But I took a different approach this evening.
I prayed for my spirit, strength and patience to be restored. And I will say that this was probably the most powerful prayer I have ever prayed in my life.
There I was on the floor of my bedroom, alone, with nothing but the hum of a fan behind me.
It was ten small prayers for those mothers who need encouragement and support. Those small prayers were designed “to fight for the heart” of your child.
I read each one aloud, with a true open mind and heart. And yes, even a few tears.
When I reached the bottom of the list, I felt a little better. I wasn’t ready to run like an Olympic star. But I did have a good “push” for the next day.
After some more praying and a few more tears mixed with just enough laughter, I fell asleep. I was still unsure of how I was going to fix the problems that had picked my brain.
The next day was a lot smoother. I was more patient, more understanding. There were less raised voices and more raised spirits. It was a better day.
And then the second day passed. And it was awesome.
And I vowed to hit my knees every night with those same ten prayers. Don’t just run through them. Really pray them.
I know that there are still going to be those challenging moments. There will be spankings, punishments, back-talk, tests and bad attitudes. But hopefully, I can do what I need to do as a mother with a clear head and a better outlook.
After all, they are kids. They don’t come with handbooks. They are not purely controllable. They are not always Momma’s little angels.
They are rough-housing, spilled milk, sassy mouth, nerve-testers, patience pushers...
They are beautiful chaos. They are tight hugs, wet kisses, contagious giggles, brutal honesty, sincere love....
That alone is worth fighting for.
And I am starting to realize prayer is the best weapon to bring to that battle.
