The strangest thing happened to me when I began this blog post. I picked several photographs of my sweet babies that I wanted to share, then began writing. Without even thinking, I began writing about how I am a horrible mother.
I typed in length about how depressed I felt after becoming a stay at home mom. How I cried from being lonely. I typed about how I never do enough. I never play enough. I don't read enough books to my kids during the day. I don't always feed my kids enough vitamin rich food. I typed that I am horrible.
For years now I have laid in bed with my husband teary eyed, asking him if I was good enough. He always responded the same. He would tell me how lucky our children were to have me. He would say he didn't understand how I couldn't see that.
I never was able to believe him.
I have been coming to God in prayer about how I wish to be better. I want my kids to have the best mother. But I am horrible.
I didn't know where the word "horrible" even came from but I felt attached to that adjective. It was my descriptor. As I blogged, with out full recognition I began writing about a time when my first daughter was six months old. I was fighting depression and loneliness fiercely at this time and felt like I had no one to talk to. I wanted to run away. One afternoon a friend invited me and my baby to lunch. I found this my moment to finally talk about how I felt. How sad I was. So, I did. While sitting across from my friend I told her how I was struggling. How staying home with a baby wasn't what I imagined. She looked at me and said, "You are horrible."
Now, this friend was single, had no children, and had a bit of a reputation for being cold. Her opinion never carried much weight with me in the past but her words had confirmed for me how I had seen myself for the last six months. I was a horrible mother.
I have been floundering in my spiritual life for well over two years now. I had finally decided to talk to my mother about it a month ago. I told her how sad I've been feeling, my anxiety was running rampant, and I couldn't connect with God. She told me to spend 5 minutes with scripture each morning, pray that God use that time to speak with me. Just focus on the 5 minutes and allow growth from there.
The morning before I began this blog post my scripture study covered knowing God. (Jerimiah 9: 23-24) "...let him who glories glory in this, that he understands and knows me." It stood out and I honestly confessed, "I do want to know you. But I don't feel like you are with me"
This was the truth. I felt alone. Then my daughter brought God to me.
I had just purchased a new sketch book. My sweet little one broke it in by drawing the first image. She drew me, as a child, jumping in the grass. There is a red figure to the side. She told me "this is God watching you."
It hit me. I don't discuss my spiritual struggles with my four year old. But in this moment she drew me being watched by God.
Following this event is when I blogged. Just wanting share photographs I had taken of my kids. Then for a third time God was presented to me. He showed me a lie that had been placed in my mind years ago that impacted me every day since I heard it.
"You are horrible."
My mother has been focusing strongly on spiritual, inner healing and passing along how to find healing to me. She told me God would present through beauty, goodness, and truth. He gave me the beauty and goodness through my daughter. He gave me the truth through scripture and through uncovering the lie that had been carried and believed these last four years. I find it beautiful that my daughter, the one I felt like I was failing, was the one that God used subtly to help start me on the path to healing.
I woke up the next morning feeling renewed. I have these amazing children who love me. They are happy, they are thriving, and they are weird- just like me. I felt like I was hearing their giggles in a brand new way. I had no idea that three little words from a place I hadn't even remembered had been shaping me all these years. Now I get to let "I love you's" from my children define how I see myself as a mother.