I get it. I know your hair is tangled, your eyes are bloodshot, and your mind is running wild even as you read this sentence. I know your cup of coffee from early (and I mean early) this morning is cold now and that you’re running on your last bit of strength. I know you love your kids, your family, and your life . . . but deep inside, your heart is panting for a break. A halt from the craziness to just sit and breathe.
If I’m being honest, this life is not what I pictured, and it isn’t always everything I prayed for. My husband isn’t always the husband he promised he’d be. Mom life isn’t as cute and glamorous as Instagram led on. I mean, I am sitting here, working on my wedding anniversary because either neglect, anger, or life got in the way of my groom making romantic plans for us, for me. My infant is on day 1,000 of a sleep regression. My clothes don’t fit the way I want, and my house doesn’t look the way I think it should, and sometimes . . . I just want to hide.
Often, (and I mean often) I cry to God in my personal time and plead: When, when, when is it my turn to nap? When do I get to be tired and forego my duties? Does anyone notice I’m withering away?!? When do I get to empty my brain of what needs to happen next and just enjoy the present moment? When will someone tell me “It’s okay, I got this. Go have a seat.’” When God, when?
And like the faithful Father He is, He gently reminds me that it’s okay to be human. He holds me, like only He can, and reminds me that I am His child—not His adult.
Not His employee sent to Earth to care for His precious son or the precious baby He gave us. He reminds me I’m not hired at an hourly rate and that this life is His gift to me. Because He loves me. He reminds me that He loves me as much as He loves them and that carrying burdens is not my calling, but His.
And hey, it’s not your calling either. Mama, He loves you. You are the crowning jewel of all of Creation, and He calls you child, daughter, beloved. It’s not your job to hold the whole world together, it’s His. Believe me or not, you aren’t even called to hold yourself together.
In our weakness, He is strong, and when we finally gather the courage to hit the floor on our knees, He is so faithful to meet us there. So faithful to wrap us in His warmth, still our hearts, and share His insight on how we can totally kick today’s butt.
I get it, sis. I know that 10 minutes on the floor is 10 minutes off your curated schedule and 10 minutes fewer to do dishes, wash the laundry, chop the onions, or even sit to scroll on your phone . . . but hear me out. Those 10 minutes can revive you more than a whole day of napping because let’s be honest, moms don’t really nap peacefully when we wake up to find every chore is still there when we wake up.
So take the chance. Eat some food, take care of your sweet baby, send that husband off to work, and as soon as you get the chance, hit the floor on your knees. Sit in His presence. Tell Him everything wrong in your world and be brutally honest. We don’t have to hide with our God, our Father. He won’t tell your secrets and He won’t punish you for sharing. Be yourself, be His child, and let Him comfort you like only He can.