Why Come?

Before I became a mom, I worked for the YMCA as the supervisor of an after-school program in an inner-city environment. I could mother a building full of children ranging in age from four to seventeen! I thought motherhood would be a breeze. I didn't realize one very important, even crucial factor--

those children went home after three hours.

Nor did I realize how much I relied on the staff of five that worked with me creating this program. They had ideas and the ability to clearly communicate those ideas. They listened to stories and helped with the daily ins-and-outs of being surrounded by children. On rotten days when I was less than I wanted to be, they
helped me feel normal,

because they had those sorts of days too.

Then I became a mom. I had it down.

• Till Abigail hated to eat.
• Till I tried to get her to enjoy eating, every day for the past four and 5/6th years, 1764 days (Yes, I did the math.)
• Till Simon came along and searches for ways to create a new and boy-kind of chaos.
• Till . . .

Really, I was a great mom. I had it together for all of two hours and 30 minutes (the recovery time for a C-section). While I was lying in the recovery room imagining my little girl, chatting with the nurse, waiting for my toes to react to my brain, I was with it.
I didn't stay "with it" very long. I moaned with a pillow over my head instead of getting up. A little girl we had waited and prayed for became a burden, a heavy burden I did not enjoy and wasn't bonding with. And I faked it. There were many people who prayed with us for this child, and I didn't want to disappoint them by being remotely insufficient for this task of raising children.

Then I started talking, and I've kept talking ever since. See, this motherhood thing is hard. It is hard to wake up to little voices in your head before your own voice is in your head. It is hard to remember that mommy is also woman and wife. It is hard to not swear when the toilet is so clogged that it overflows onto the bathroom floor. It is hard to make dinner everyone can enjoy and to insist that children try everything. It is hard to hear the good and the bad about everything that comes close to your child and to then make some sort of decision about it.
This motherhood thing is also lonely. It is why I keep talking when my mom needs to take her call waiting. It is why I still get a little pouty when my husband leaves for work. It is why at odd and random parts of the day I hurry to the computer to check blog updates when I know everything is updated by 10 AM.

And MOPS is a place where we can come and be and share and talk and take care of ourselves and each other and get ready for the next day. You see, we weren't meant to be moms alone. For centuries, communities were built in such a way as to encourage womanly togetherness--going to the well, front porches, quilting bees. I can hear the chatter as they went, sharing the joys and burdens of mothering children.

And if one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. 

A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart. 

Ecclesiastes 4:12

God knows we need one another; He created us. (It gives Him the inside track). I will admit that one little one can do me in and two can make it that much more difficult. But drawing on the strength, experience, wisdom, and joy of other mothers equips me to enter into the lives of my children as a whole person. That is why I seek out other mothers. That is the meaning behind our trips to the library and play dates. It is why I come to MOPS.

Reminder:

MOPS 

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

6:00

Cherry Tree Alliance Church