Keeping’ it Real, the Daily Struggle of Motherhood


All this stuff I talk about here on this blog, pointing our eyes to the Heavens and having an eternal perspective, seeking the face of God as though we were but a child, relinquishing control as a mom and depending on Him for everything. It’s all totally true.

But there are so many moments in my life where I want to scream at those truths and shut them up in a corner, because I’m just not feeling it. Sometimes I hear my little blog posts in the back of my mind while I’m faced with my reality and I’m like, “yeh right. whatever.”

That’s the truth, people. I’m just keeping it real.

There was a huge storm last night, and while none of my children woke up (praise the Lord, we’ve reached that point), we now have a young pup who was rather scared and needed to come into his parents room and sleep. All fine and good, but an interruption nonetheless.

Next, my boy comes down just a little before the alarm clock (ugh, I hate that) and he just doesn’t feel right. So I roll out of bed, almost stepping on the dog, and start the coffee. Today’s the day #2 needs to get to school early so I’m moving it along a little faster than usual.

Of course, one thing leads to another, one person is sassy and bossy, one kid hates her hair, and now the dog is wet and muddy and will. not. be. dried. with. a. towel. and you have the beginnings of a beautiful morning.

Then I’m yelled at because someone’s hair isn’t perfect and she can’t find her brushes (I didn’t touch them) and it’s just chaos and of course we’re late and yada yada.

All of this comes after having to send an emergency email to my one and only paying job that is literally one hour a week and cancel it because there’s simply no other options today–it’s early release day at school and neighbors are busy and grandparents are busy and I’m a mom first, so it is what it is.

Sometimes it just feels like a slap in the face, this being a mom thing. It just does. Sometimes it feels like all of me is pushed lower and lower and lower while every one else is elevated higher and higher and higher.

These are the moments where I’m just not feeling what I preach. I don’t even want to hear what I preach.

I hate being treated rudely by my kids, I hate it when I’m rude back, and rainy dark days honestly don’t help my spirits. I hate it that I can’t make it to my accompanying job, I hate it when nobody is thankful and it feels like I’m unappreciated.

And I’m thinking, where is Jesus in all of this? Why can’t I seem to find Him, right now?

Even my kindest voice though doesn’t necessarily produce kindness in the kids, and it’s frustrating because whether I’m nice or not I seem to get the same treatment, so sometimes I just feel like why should I put any effort into it at all?

All along I’m praying for sweet grace and for patience and for wisdom, but what if it doesn’t come? Sometimes it doesn’t come right when I need it. Am I not praying hard enough? I can’t hide until it comes, life keeps moving, we still have to get out the door, and someone will still keep rolling their eyes at me.


I’m not made of stone. Some say that we moms aren’t supposed to take it personally but it’s personal–I pushed these kids out of my own body, you better believe it’s personal. Even if you didn’t push them out yourself, all moms have gone through pain bringing their sweet children home. And then you give and give and give, not perfectly of course, and really sometimes it feels like all you get in return is a sour expression and a list of complaints.

I could pepper you with the, “It’s not always this bad. Of course there are precious moments that I love and wouldn’t trade for the world,” speech, but you already know that. You know that being a mom is the hugest contradiction and opposition of emotions I think that anyone on the planet can face. So yes, with the days that all seem to go wrong there are definitely days that go right.

(and may I insert here a quick shout out to my mom for still being alive and thriving after dealing with me and my brother. you amaze me.)

What must it have been like for Jesus, here on this earth? His disciples honestly seem a lot like my children (like me, too), fighting and disputing, never really understanding Him, always thinking they know what He should do and that they know better.

It’s no wonder He had to go off alone quite often for prayer and reflection. Even Jesus! We know He didn’t sin, but He was tempted, and I can’t help but think that He was tempted in some of the very same ways I am, and He had to excuse Himself for refreshment with the Lord.

Being Jesus Himself didn’t keep Him from needing moments alone, away, with the Father.

I think I idealistically want all of it to come flooding back in the heat of the moment. I want to remember all that I’ve learned and be able to apply it perfectly in the situation, having perfect wisdom and having emotions that aren’t hurt by careless words spoken by juveniles.

Perhaps that’s the goal of our life, and perhaps someday we will get there more consistently than now.

But maybe He’s pushing me to the quiet spaces, the edges where I come back and drink Him up again. I know He’s with me always, and I know I’m indwelt with the Spirit, and I know He’s given me all I need for life and Godliness, but we aren’t perfect yet. That’ll come later.

So I have to keep walking, keep doing, knowing He put me here for a reason, and He knows the trials and struggles that occur daily. And He calls me back to Him in the quiet corners of life, to soak it in and remind myself of all the truths of who He is and who I am in Him.

*Thanks for reading this vulnerable post that comes from the very rawest part of my heart. I feel like sharing these things with you all because you are tender and sweet, and because maybe you are here too on many occasions, and sometimes we just need to know that we all go through these challenges, and it’s not always a pretty little package wrapped up neatly into an elegant little blog post.*


Screen Shot 2014-11-04 at 2.28.47 PM