For the Weary Mother

October 11, 2011

in Mothering

The last hour of that afternoon was just too much at once.  No one thing so awful, just the pieces of the day all falling apart, one after the other.  My attempt at organizing has only left a bigger mess, the morning’s paintings are still there on the kitchen table, marbles and race cars all over the floor, and crumbs on (and under) the toddler’s tray. The daring one is injured and inconsolable, the little one just wants to be held (again), and my boy just can’t seem to ask for one thing without whining.

Dinner’s nowhere near ready, my husband is nowhere near home, and I’m nowhere near capable of hanging on.

I bend down to look my big girl in the eyes, bend down again to pick up the toddling wailer, and sit still to see what my boy wants to show me.  And here, just in this little second of sanity, I remember His words:

Then he said to them, “Whoever welcomes this little child in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. For it is the one who is least among you all who is the greatest.”  Luke 9:48

Were the children around Him as raucous as mine in this moment?  How far He seems from a child like this-Him in His glory and humility, His power and might.  How could welcoming this screaming child in His name welcome Him as well?

I’m not sure He provides the answer, only the promise.  And I can’t help but trust it, cling to it, sit in humility and accept it.  When I humbly persevere in these chaotic moments, bend low and give the patience and love and hope of Christ…when I welcome these little ones into my arms, Christ welcomes me into His.

Open arms that accept all that these children bring prepares me for an embrace with Jesus who accepts me even though I can bring Him nothing.


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