Where Shall a Mother Find Rest
I was standing in the shower, blissfully drinking in the heat and the sharp spray on my once again sunburned skin, when I heard a knock-knock-knock on the bathroom door.
“Who is it” I shouted. (but not so loudly that our campground neighbors could hear.)
“Mom” she said exasperated, “it’s just me, Ana”.
“Come in”. I winced as I opened my hand and watched my precious tidbit of privacy slip from my fingertips to slither down the drain.
2 minutes later: “CAN SOMEBODY WIPE ME” she roared. (Loud enough that the entire campground heard.)
I stepped out, water dripping, to do the next right thing, before scuttling back under the spray. She started vigorously washing her hands, sending me hurtling against the back wall of the shower, avoiding the water which had lowered to a bipolar, icy, hiccup.
Off she ran, leaving the door open. I step out, shielding myself with a shirt lying on the floor, close the door, and get back into the shower.
Bang bang bang.
“Who is it”?
“Mom can you hurry, I really need the bathroom”
“Yes son, give me 1 minute.”
I’m not even disappointed, That is how life is in the camper. I wrap myself in the towel with soap suds clinging forgotten to the top of my scalp and hurry to my bedroom to get dressed and lotion my sunburn. I eat a tiny piece of my favorite dark chocolate from my stash. It melts slowly in my mouth, as my sunburn cools under the cool wash of Aloe. I feel calm, benevolent even. My soul rocks easily at the bottom of my ocean. Nothing can touch me. I fly above this. I am doing this whole camper with 250 sheep, well. I eat another piece of chocolate, this one a little bit bigger than the last one.
Bang bang bang
I open the door a crack, and a chubby, little hand pushes firmly at the door until it’s wide enough to slip through. In marches my smallest sheep, his face expectant and entitled as he rests his brown pebbles on his mother who is almost out of her secret stash of chocolate and trying hard to hold her mouth still.
“Yum yum” he begs, laying the full force of those coffee bean colored eyes straight upon the spot in my heart that always feeds a begging dog. I weakly hand him my chocolate, and kiss his cheeks .
Bang bang… “Mom can you tell me what this word is?”
Bang bang….. “Mom is my swimsuit out of the dryer?”.
Bang bang…. “Mom can you zipper my dress?”
Bang Bang….
My glue suddenly fails me and I roar in my best Batman voice “hold all questions until I am dressed and out there again”. (the whole campground hears)
A loud, startled, silence falls over the camper.
I squeeze my eyes shut, reach for the door, and go out into the hallway with my feathers very much reduced. “Children, I am sorry I yelled, can you forgive me?”
“Oh yes, Mom, it’s not even a problem, we should have waited until you were out”.
Greatly humbled, I dress, I check Instagram, I look at a recipe, I jolt awake and propel myself from the bottom of the ocean and up into the sunlight.
My five minutes of looking at a bruschetta gave me a tendril of my dignity back, and I tie it firmly around my waist before stepping out again to direct traffic on the busy highway of my kitchen.
Mothers don’t really get to ‘rest’ in so many words. We are busy all day, doing this, that, the other thing, and back to the original thing. The minute we think we have arrived, we see how very much we have not arrived. When our laundry baskets are all emptied, is when all our sheep need their wool scrubbed, the basket filling up so quickly, it’s like a time delay video. At night we do not get done, we just stop. We tie our horses up, and we fall into bed hoping our little one will be cooperative and let us sleep.
Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. But come morning, our duties do not end. We just pick up where we left off, and get back to it, sometimes so exhausted that all we can do is lay boneless on the couch and let them climb all over us like little centipedes with jam on their faces.
You do not realize this in the moment, but if you persevere, doing the next small thing that needs done, with pride and nobility, you are running your race well. How can one change a diaper with nobility and pride, you ask. It’s not hard. You pick the baby up, you smile, you blow on his belly, you open the diaper, wipe his little round corners, replace it with a fresh one, blow on his belly again, and put him back on the floor to merge back into toddler traffic.
Washing dishes, and folding laundry is the same way. So is sweeping the floors and cleaning the toilets while stuffing your offsprings heads with knowledge.
As a mother to 6, I can assure you, you will find rest again. A night of only four interruptions instead of twelve hundred, is coming.
If you persevere, a night with zero interruptions will arrive at your doorstep. But it will arrive only after having been returned to sender, multiple times.
Your husband may even see what he believes to be his ship on the horizon, however once it docks, it will not be his ship, it will be your sleep arriving.
Something important happens when a woman looses sleep, and becomes worn down with motherhood and life. It’s like magic, but it doesn’t feel magical.
It feels more like you will die.
But you won’t die.
You just think you are tapped out, but trust me, there is still lots left.
The only difference between an overwhelmed Mom with two children, and a Mom of six is the Mom of two, taps out sooner.
You have to build those muscles. You have to lift beyond your endurance, stretch to your limit, go until you feel like you are going to die. Then and only then will your muscles grow bigger and stronger, until you are a lean machine that has no quit inside you.
And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
— Somewhere in Romans 5
The longer you go without tapping out, exulting in your tribulations, the more you realize how much you can do; brings perseverance the less overwhelmed you feel; proven character the more confident you are; hope does not disappoint, the more rested you become. The love of God is poured out in your heart………
Exult when you are exhausted, when your dishes pile high, when you are stretched like a rubber band, when your husband doesn’t have time to do those things on the list, and you will have to do them yourselves. Exult when life is hard. Exult because that is the sweet spot of growth.
I am going to repeat that for the Moms who woke up 40 times with toddler one and the nursling that nourished itself off of her very body.
Exult because that is the sweet spot of growth.
