“I think we are going to have to reschedule. She’s just not feeling well.”
The text was followed with some sad emoji’s, a brief lament over the need to cancel, and a promised date to reschedule.
She was sad; I was sad, and I could feel it through the phone.
With the hustle of the holidays, a heart surgery and hospital stay, school schedules, doctor appointments, and a myriad of other things [now including a child with constipation], we haven’t been able to connect for a period of time.
And though it’s hardly the end of the world (like not even a little), it still stinks.
Confined to her home…running on little sleep…with a sick kiddo…a new’ish baby…another kiddo in school for a mere 3 hours…and the promise of a snow storm that could keep her stuck and stir-crazy for a few more days, my mama-heart sunk as I thought about the disappointment she was probably feeling.
Standing in my kitchen, with a baby in my arms, I cooked my breakfast and prayed for her.
And as I looked down at the stove, I saw my egg whites cooking on the back burner, and I just cried.
If that isn’t the perfect picture to describe the messy-reality of being a mama, I don’t know what is!?!?!?!
Because being a mama is a WHOLE LOT like being a back-burner egg.
You serve; you pour out; and you love.
You sacrifice; you lay down; and you love.
You share; you give up; and you love.
And then…you do it all again.
Day in and day out, you put the needs of others before your own.
Day in and day out, you lay aside your agenda and put down your desires.
Day in and day out, you take the backseat and the back burner to the needs of those you love and serve.
And though there is tremendous blessing in being a mama and incredible joy in loving those littles, sometimes it feels a whole lot like SACRIFICE.
Because it is, friends. IT IS.
Loving IS laying down; serving IS sacrificing; and doing it day in and day out, can be really, really hard.
So grabbing my keys, I headed to Trader Joe’s for a quick bouquet. Actually, I also came out with a bag of green beans, a jar of marinara sauce, and a package of red lentil pasta (because let’s be real, no one ever left TJ’s without something that looked and sounded good), but I had the flowers.
With a bunch of daisies, sunflowers, and eucalyptus nestled in my arm, I knocked on her down. And almost immediately, the tears came.
Words were shared; hugs were given; and Truth was spoken.
I don’t remember the exact words I shared, but I know I shared the essence of Matthew 16:24 and 1 Peter 4:13 because mama doesn’t remember the addresses of His word too well, and it ALL seemed appropriate and needed.
If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me…But rejoice that you share in the sufferings of Christ.
Mamas, the truth is…we DO serve; we DO sacrifice; and we DO suffer. And the other Truth is…we get to follow in His footsteps as we lay down our “crowns” and pick up our “crosses.”
The way of motherhood is sacrificial love, and so is the cost of discipleship.
He didn’t promise it would be easy; He didn’t promise it would be pain-free; BUT, He did promise that He would never, ever leave and that our reward would be secure in heaven for all of eternity to come (Hebrews 13:5 and James 1:12)!
Friends, I don’t know what cross He has asked you to bear (mama or not), but may I encourage you with the following:
No back-burner egg ever escaped His gaze or His grace.