Somewhere between a soapy breakfast dish, and a squirmy child’s diaper change, I hear high pitched shrieking. Peace, made only minutes before, has been breached. I follow the sound to the indignant faces of girls who had forgotten to make the bed and get dressed, who were instead pleading their cases, speaking over the other. As I drew my finger to my lips, neither ceased. I wanted to enter this toy strewn room with joy, to the sounds of laughter, obedience, but am called in as a minister of discipline.
The ministry of motherhood is many things—but at the heart, it is a labor of love.
What kind of child am I to my Abba Father?
I can almost see His smile turn up—a difficult one.
When I give Him hunger, He fills me; bring Him weakness, He holds me up. When I make the same mistakes over and over again, He is ever patient and forgiving. When I sin, He loves me, loves me enough not to leave me alone, but to teach me. When I am needy and cry to Him, He loves me. In spite of me, He loves me.
The Lord pens that my ministry is in all things: “in much patience, in tribulations, in needs, in distresses …in labors, in sleeplessness...“ How did He know it would be like this? As the list blurs before me I marvel at the patience and love of God to be all these things and more to me. When I wear out Lord, how do You keep going? When I am frustrated, resentful even, Your love never ceases.
How great is the task to be my Abba Father, and that You do it willingly, this is love.
Your word tells me my ministry is in all things and carried out “by purity, by knowledge, by longsuffering, by kindness, by the Holy Spirit, by sincere love, by the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armor of righteousness on the right hand and on the left.”
God, Your shoes are big ones; Your parenting can be daunting.
Are you sure I can do this?
He reminds me that I don’t have to; He is the potter. I am merely the clay.
My hope is in the example of a perfect teacher.
My strength in His big hand holding mine.
My guide in His words lovingly spoken.
My calling, Obedience to my Father.
Obedience comes with great reward: “as dying, and behold we live; as chastened, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things.”
To this girl who will never be too grown up for a Father-- to this girl who will never be asked to leave her home, what love I have been shown.
May my ministry reflect that today in the face of my children, may I make them rich.
2 Corinthians 6:4-10
Big steps to follow…
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