I love my life. Really I do. I love being a mother to all these kids and the dirty house that comes with them. I love that having these people means that my sink is always full of dirty dishes and sometimes I don't get to shower.
I love them so much that if I dwell on it for long enough I will cry rivers of tears.
I love them so very much.
But, you know what? There's another side to being a Mom that no one ever talks about. When I wrote this post, several of you agreed that you have struggles. Several of you admitted insecurities and realities that you face in this role we are blessed by.
And, I think, part of being Radical is being honest with right where I am. Because like I told my friend Wendi a long while back during a play date, "I think that being radical means allowing God to push you out of your comfort zone so that where your ability ends, His can begin and therefore He gets all the glory."
And what I'm going to share with you today is certainly out of my comfort zone. But, I feel like I'm not being totally honest if I keep these emotions inside me and pretend as though they don't exist.
I realize that by writing what will follow, I'm probably going to get some (more) sideways glances at church, some of you may even question my emotional stability.
Truthfully, I'm okay. I'm awesome, actually.
Maybe you'll think less of me after reading this post. I mean, afterall, we're going to be missonaries, we should have it all together, right?
Wrong.
What I'm going to write is the truth. It's how I feel somedays.
Not every day. But some.
Usually after a night of little-to-no-sleep. Usually after (or during) an incredibly challenging day. Usually when I'm at my wit's end with a behavior from a certain precious child who will not stop throwing her food on the floor or after a sweet little boy throws his 4th tantrum in 30 minutes.
Or when I wonder why in the world God saw fit to give me, virtually, two sets of twins so that I could deal with negative, age-appropriate behaviors in two scoop helpings and it's almost more than I can deal with to say it twice, twice in 10 seconds to two different people because copy cat #2 felt the need to mimic copy cat #1's nasty behavior even though #1 just got a consequence.
It's those times that something washes over me and I realize that something else it taking a hold of me. Something that could have such a grip on me that I could understand why people slip into the recesses of the unspeakable.
It's nasty and I'm not proud of it.
Anger.
Not a flippant passing aggravation that makes me want to turn on cartoons for the next 2 hours and pray my children focus on the TV so I have some friggin' peace and quiet.
Real anger. Anger that makes me wonder who I am and how I got all these kids and if I really knew what I was doing, or better, if God knew what He was doing when he handed me these blessings because I'm seriously about to flip out on them.
Anger that causes me to drag my child to his (or her) bedroom while (s)he's kicking and screaming and wailing at the top of his lungs and then gingerly sliding him in and closing the door behind him. Anger that makes me stand at that same door and hold it shut while my child tries to pull it open because if we were to have another interaction right then, it would not be pretty.
Anger because it's meal time again and again we are having a battle of the wills over whether or not he will eat the food I've prepared. Food he likes but is currently rejecting because he apparently doesn't care if he eats today. So he sits and scowls at me from underneath furrowed eyebrows, rejecting all of the food on his plate because I dared to put a tiny bit of something green on the same surface as the rest of his food. Or, rejecting it because he threw a fit 10 minutes ago and consequence of a toy being taken away is still fresh in his mind.
Anger because, again, they've woken/disturbed/upset an otherwise peaceful baby, again, and so now, again, I must drop everything and console the (what would have been a content) baby because a brother or sister couldn't keep their hands to themselves. So lunch will take 45 minutes to prepare rather than 20 minutes which means that everyone will be so hungry and cranky by the time I finally get lunch on the table that fights will ensue and food will be flung and I will lose my cool. Again.
But as a Mom (or a Dad) it's taboo to talk about that kind of anger, isn't it? Because in our politically correct culture, if you actually talk about being angry at your kid then someone will surely call Social Services on you and they'll take your kids and put you in a 6 week anger management program.
We used to be foster parents. We are familiar with the programs for parents who have abused and neglected their kids. They are needed. They are a genuine route to recovery for the parents who actually have habitual anger management issues.
But, am I really "managing" my anger if I choose not to discuss it? And, in choosing to shove it to the recesses of my heart, am I allowing those emotions the attention that's needed to deal with them appropriately? If I've found out anything in my short time as a mother it's true that, "If I'm feeling/experiencing/struggling with something, chances are someone else is/has/will too." But all too often we take topics that are taboo and shove them to the deep dark corners of our hearts and pray that they don't surface when anyone else is around.
Because if anyone knew that you really felt that way then surely they'd think less of you, or wonder why you chose to have so many kids or be a stay at home mom or blah, blah, blah...
I'm tired of reading blogs and being around people who claim they never lose it and paint the picture of their perfect life. I lose it. Not everyday. Sometimes I make it a whole week. But I lose it. Often.
Why is it so taboo to talk about less-than-rosey-lovey-dovey feelings for your kids? Why is it unacceptable to say, "Somedays, I don't like my kid. In fact, some days when I hear them waking up from naps, I get frustrated with them for no reason."
I feel that way. Sometimes. And while I'm not advocating that anyone should ever discipline while they are in the throws of anger nor am I saying that anyone who has habitual anger or depression issues should never seek counseling.
What I am saying that these feelings are real and I feel them. Not everyday. But sometimes.
I get angry with my kids. I get tired or I don't spend enough time in the Word and the anger washes over me before I realize what's happening. And then I beg my kids and the Lord for forgiveness.
I will end with saying that I've had the majority of this post written and saved in my drafts since May of 2010. Not because it's not true, but because I was afraid of the backlash I'd receive by posting it. But if I'm honest with myself and deny that I don't struggle with occasional anger issues then I'm not being truthful with myself. And again, I believe that if I'm feeling these emotions of motherhood, surely other mothers feel the same way as well.
In the 8 months since this was originally drafted, I've prayed for the Lord to take away my anger, to help me pass it over to Him when I feel it welling up within me. But I've found that my ability to pass it over to Him is directly related to the amount of time I spend in fellowship with the Lord. When I get slack and don't make time with Him a priority, the enemy uses my tired brain as a short fuse to spark the fire of my anger.
So I confess. I sometimes struggle with anger. Do you? If not, what do you struggle with that's Taboo among Mommy and Christian circles? I'd be willing to bet, that more times that not, other Moms are struggling as well.
I want to leave you with a verse I found nearly 3 years ago and that has stuck with me and I have claimed as my life verse:
I love them so much that if I dwell on it for long enough I will cry rivers of tears.
I love them so very much.
But, you know what? There's another side to being a Mom that no one ever talks about. When I wrote this post, several of you agreed that you have struggles. Several of you admitted insecurities and realities that you face in this role we are blessed by.
And, I think, part of being Radical is being honest with right where I am. Because like I told my friend Wendi a long while back during a play date, "I think that being radical means allowing God to push you out of your comfort zone so that where your ability ends, His can begin and therefore He gets all the glory."
And what I'm going to share with you today is certainly out of my comfort zone. But, I feel like I'm not being totally honest if I keep these emotions inside me and pretend as though they don't exist.
I realize that by writing what will follow, I'm probably going to get some (more) sideways glances at church, some of you may even question my emotional stability.
Truthfully, I'm okay. I'm awesome, actually.
Maybe you'll think less of me after reading this post. I mean, afterall, we're going to be missonaries, we should have it all together, right?
Wrong.
What I'm going to write is the truth. It's how I feel somedays.
Not every day. But some.
Usually after a night of little-to-no-sleep. Usually after (or during) an incredibly challenging day. Usually when I'm at my wit's end with a behavior from a certain precious child who will not stop throwing her food on the floor or after a sweet little boy throws his 4th tantrum in 30 minutes.
Or when I wonder why in the world God saw fit to give me, virtually, two sets of twins so that I could deal with negative, age-appropriate behaviors in two scoop helpings and it's almost more than I can deal with to say it twice, twice in 10 seconds to two different people because copy cat #2 felt the need to mimic copy cat #1's nasty behavior even though #1 just got a consequence.
It's those times that something washes over me and I realize that something else it taking a hold of me. Something that could have such a grip on me that I could understand why people slip into the recesses of the unspeakable.
It's nasty and I'm not proud of it.
Anger.
Not a flippant passing aggravation that makes me want to turn on cartoons for the next 2 hours and pray my children focus on the TV so I have some friggin' peace and quiet.
Real anger. Anger that makes me wonder who I am and how I got all these kids and if I really knew what I was doing, or better, if God knew what He was doing when he handed me these blessings because I'm seriously about to flip out on them.
Anger that causes me to drag my child to his (or her) bedroom while (s)he's kicking and screaming and wailing at the top of his lungs and then gingerly sliding him in and closing the door behind him. Anger that makes me stand at that same door and hold it shut while my child tries to pull it open because if we were to have another interaction right then, it would not be pretty.
Anger because it's meal time again and again we are having a battle of the wills over whether or not he will eat the food I've prepared. Food he likes but is currently rejecting because he apparently doesn't care if he eats today. So he sits and scowls at me from underneath furrowed eyebrows, rejecting all of the food on his plate because I dared to put a tiny bit of something green on the same surface as the rest of his food. Or, rejecting it because he threw a fit 10 minutes ago and consequence of a toy being taken away is still fresh in his mind.
Anger because, again, they've woken/disturbed/upset an otherwise peaceful baby, again, and so now, again, I must drop everything and console the (what would have been a content) baby because a brother or sister couldn't keep their hands to themselves. So lunch will take 45 minutes to prepare rather than 20 minutes which means that everyone will be so hungry and cranky by the time I finally get lunch on the table that fights will ensue and food will be flung and I will lose my cool. Again.
But as a Mom (or a Dad) it's taboo to talk about that kind of anger, isn't it? Because in our politically correct culture, if you actually talk about being angry at your kid then someone will surely call Social Services on you and they'll take your kids and put you in a 6 week anger management program.
We used to be foster parents. We are familiar with the programs for parents who have abused and neglected their kids. They are needed. They are a genuine route to recovery for the parents who actually have habitual anger management issues.
But, am I really "managing" my anger if I choose not to discuss it? And, in choosing to shove it to the recesses of my heart, am I allowing those emotions the attention that's needed to deal with them appropriately? If I've found out anything in my short time as a mother it's true that, "If I'm feeling/experiencing/struggling with something, chances are someone else is/has/will too." But all too often we take topics that are taboo and shove them to the deep dark corners of our hearts and pray that they don't surface when anyone else is around.
Because if anyone knew that you really felt that way then surely they'd think less of you, or wonder why you chose to have so many kids or be a stay at home mom or blah, blah, blah...
I'm tired of reading blogs and being around people who claim they never lose it and paint the picture of their perfect life. I lose it. Not everyday. Sometimes I make it a whole week. But I lose it. Often.
Why is it so taboo to talk about less-than-rosey-lovey-dovey feelings for your kids? Why is it unacceptable to say, "Somedays, I don't like my kid. In fact, some days when I hear them waking up from naps, I get frustrated with them for no reason."
I feel that way. Sometimes. And while I'm not advocating that anyone should ever discipline while they are in the throws of anger nor am I saying that anyone who has habitual anger or depression issues should never seek counseling.
What I am saying that these feelings are real and I feel them. Not everyday. But sometimes.
I get angry with my kids. I get tired or I don't spend enough time in the Word and the anger washes over me before I realize what's happening. And then I beg my kids and the Lord for forgiveness.
I will end with saying that I've had the majority of this post written and saved in my drafts since May of 2010. Not because it's not true, but because I was afraid of the backlash I'd receive by posting it. But if I'm honest with myself and deny that I don't struggle with occasional anger issues then I'm not being truthful with myself. And again, I believe that if I'm feeling these emotions of motherhood, surely other mothers feel the same way as well.
In the 8 months since this was originally drafted, I've prayed for the Lord to take away my anger, to help me pass it over to Him when I feel it welling up within me. But I've found that my ability to pass it over to Him is directly related to the amount of time I spend in fellowship with the Lord. When I get slack and don't make time with Him a priority, the enemy uses my tired brain as a short fuse to spark the fire of my anger.
So I confess. I sometimes struggle with anger. Do you? If not, what do you struggle with that's Taboo among Mommy and Christian circles? I'd be willing to bet, that more times that not, other Moms are struggling as well.
I want to leave you with a verse I found nearly 3 years ago and that has stuck with me and I have claimed as my life verse:
Not that I have already obtained this (righteousness) or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
(Philippians 3:12-14 ESV)
(Philippians 3:12-14 ESV)
I'm praying for each of you reading this, that you will press on through the ugliness that plagues your heart, strain toward King Jesus and move forward to a place of repentance and healing. I'm praying that for myself too.