let them out. it’s okay

This post is for all the mommas out there. The ones watching their babies grow up right in front of their very eyes… the ones who don’t know how to feel about the changes – welcomed or not – that keep whipping around the corner, aimed straight at our hearts. Yes, Momma, you – the one who feels like you have to be strong. all. the. time. The one watching her children stepping up to that new milestone – walking through that new door. A mixture of pride for the person they’ve become and the longing for the child they once were, makes simple tasks like breathing difficult sometimes.

If you’re like me, you don’t allow yourself to think about it too often – those kinds of tears can be hard to stop.

Sometimes you feel like you couldn’t win for losing, and then you’re looking back and realizing that all of that stuff you thought was important – you know, the matching socks, the clean kitchen floor, the reaching your pre-childbirth weight, the teaching your child to read by the age of 5 – those really don’t matter at all. Somehow, somewhere along the way, your need to prove your worth has been [mostly] replaced with the selflessness required in parenting. Love has a way of doing that, and now all you see are the rosy moments – the ones you miss. You know, the soft little hands nestled in your own as you took walks together. The dandelion bouquets in Dixie cups gracing the kitchen table. The sticky jello fingerprints on the kitchen countertops and nose prints on the windows. The endless hours of Winnie the Pooh and Veggie Tales. The bedtime stories and listening to prayers…the butterfly kisses.

If you’re like me, you don’t allow yourself to think about it too often – those kinds of tears can be hard to stop.

Motherhood is like that. When you’re in the midst of those younger years, they feel never-ending. And then you wake up one morning and they’re gone. Sitting in your little one’s spot at the table is an adult who looks suspiciously like the baby whose cheeks you squished 19 years ago. One day you’re wiping noses and bottoms, the next you’re filling out FAFSA. And you realize that they are not the only ones who have grown up. Retrospect confirms that motherhood is indeed a sanctifying process. All of those years – even when you didn’t suspect – you were growing up too, realizing little by little that even the smallest of tasks weren’t going unnoticed by the One who multiplies with His grace and covers with His mercy.

If you’re like me, you don’t allow yourself to think about it too often – those kinds of tears can be hard to stop.

Maybe it seems at the moment that all of your sacrifice, teaching, and training is for naught. You’ve been faithful in the planting, and now comes the testing of your faith in the Lord of the harvest. Maybe like me, you’re on day 10,000 in a fight that no one could possibly survive for even 5. [But, hey, who’s counting anyway?] Maybe like me, you have weak moments, when you feel like you’re alone – standing in the middle of that desert with eyes full of grit, wondering if it’s even worth the fight. If you are, reach over and grab my hand – I’m here to tell you that He’s standing with us in the middle of the crazy and the pain.

If you’re like me, you don’t allow yourself to think about it too often – those kinds of tears can be hard to stop.

We all live on this planet that’s full of breathtaking beauty – and wounding pain. Some aspects of our lives are so incredibly beautiful, so obviously blessed, while others are too painful to be described with human words. Such is my life. And I’m sure, such is yours.

I recently have been reminded that when I’m standing on the edge of a tumultuous river – a broken relationship that is painful enough to drown me, or a loss so great that my human mind can’t truly comprehend the ramifications – no matter what it is, He is there with me. He feels the pain, too. And He won’t let me drown.

It’s this trusting Him with the loss, while thanking Him for the blessing, the allowing myself to feel the pain and knowing He is carrying it, too – this is one of the most beautiful benefits of being His child. 

Sometimes we need to be reminded that it’s okay to just let the tears fall. It’s not a sign of weakness. Let them out. It’s okay.

You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book. Psalms 56:8 NLT

 

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