The Formation of Motherhood
What Iām learning about my own formation as a new mom
The house is currently quiet, with Bryan working upstairs in our home office while I work at the dining room table. Eva is taking her morning nap, but even as I type, I'm very aware that she could wake up at any moment.
So what do I do with this precious time, while my little one rests? Do I work? Write? Spend time in prayer? Read a book? Do some laundry, prep lunch, make a grocery list...? Or do I mindlessly scroll Instagram in an attempt to assuage my monkey brain/exhaustion/desire for connection, and feel instead the pangs of guilt or jealousy or longing or ...?
Me and Eva
The tension of motherhood and attending to my own soul is so very real, each and every day. I write these words knowing that they very possibly stir up that sense of mom (or dad) guilt, and I'm sorry for that. Stupid parental guilt. I'm feeling it now myself, and I hope you know that I'm with you in it!
In all seriousness, though, I've sensed a very tangible longing to connect more deeply and intentionally with God, especially now that Eva is entering toddlerhood and her baby days are coming to a close. In some ways, I have new margin in my days; in others, not so much. And as she grows and changes, so do I. What I know is that I can't spend two hours a day in prayer and solitude; at least, not for a few more years.š
The question I'm holding, even deeper than how to spend my time, is how to seek the intimacy with Jesus that my soul craves in this current season, in this particular day. Man, do I wish I had an easy step-by-step answer! Here, at least, are a few things I'm holding, learning, and wondering about. Perhaps you can relate.
Yes, Parenthood is Sanctifying, but...
If you're a fellow parent and you're reading this, you know that you know that you KNOW that parenthood is sanctifying. Nothing reveals my broken nature and propensity for selfishness like tending to a tiny human (or perhaps in your case, humans) in need of my constant attention and care. My own desires and needs are, moment by moment, set aside for the sake of my kiddo, and I'll be honest: this can be tough. So can the simple revelation that I am selfish in the first place. I'd like to think I've overcome this pesky issue of selfishness, but alas, I have not. I've noticed how the Lord is softening the rough edges of my selfishness as I've become a parent, how He's making me more and more keenly aware of how it creeps up throughout my day, and also of the conscious choice to choose selflessness instead. The act of caring for my daughter each day is showing me how to walk the way of Jesus.
But here is what I'm also learning: parenthood is sanctifying, but it's also an invitation into experiencing my belovedness in the eyes of my Creator.
Over lent, we journeyed alongside a few friends and spent time in some Ignatian devotional material created by our friend and fellow spiritual director, Dale Gish. The entire six weeks is centered around the love of God and the way He gazes upon us with love and delight and wonder--in much the same way I gaze at my own daughter. Tozer wrote about this in The Pursuit of God: "When the eyes of the soul looking out meet the eyes of God looking in, heaven has begun right here on this earth."
And let me tell you, allowing myself to let God gaze at me this way has been....well, let's just say it's been uncomfortable. Not because I don't long for it, because I do. I so do! But because catching the gaze of God makes me feel vulnerable.
Being Known
I've been rereading Curt Thompson's Anatomy of the Soul, and one of his key concepts is this idea of being known - by God, others, and myself. How do I allow myself to be known by God, as I am right this moment? If Jesus himself has taken the risk of vulnerably making himself known to me, how do I respond in kind? How do I not shy away when I notice His loving gaze, but instead bask in it, and allow His love to seep into the cracks of my soul, even the cracks I'd like to pretend He can't see?
One day at the start of Lent, and in a week when life was full and chaotic, I was sitting with this devotional material and just letting myself be in the presence of God. It took a while to get there, but as the pace of my thoughts started to slow and I could breathe in the truth of His love for me, I heard these simple words:
"I am so proud of you."
I didn't even know I needed to hear that, but I instantly felt tears well in my eyes. God was proud of me? I sensed this particular message to my heart was because I'd been feeling guilty about not spending enough time in prayer, not using my free time wisely enough, feeling disconnected from the Lord and not like a particularly good mother or wife.
Then I'd thought of all that it had taken to become a parent in the first place -- the years of waiting through infertility, finding out we were pregnant at the start of the pandemic, walking through a very challenging ministry season, choosing to move back to Colorado to be near family, 28 hours of labor, the wonder and awe in the first moments of getting to hold our Evangeline, learning to take care of her on very little sleep, watching her grow, wrestling through the new dynamics of parenthood as husband and wife (there have been many apologies and exchanges of forgiveness this last year and a half!).
That, for me, was a moment of feeling seen, of feeling known by my God. And it filled my soul in such a way that it's still spilling over.
I'm still trying to figure out the best ways to go about making more time for being known by God. Is it in the early morning hours, when Eva's still asleep? Is it during her nap time? Is it in the evening, when my body and mind are tired, and the easy thing to do would be to veg out in front of the TV? I don't know. Every day is a bit different, and I've never been great at routines. I just know I want to learn to sit in the gaze of God more often.
Finding God in the Ordinary and Mundane
So what about days when I just can't seem to find the time to sit in God's gaze? I keep learning and re-learning how to find God in the ordinary.
Bryan and I have remarked many-a-time on the monotony of our lives since becoming parents. The daily routine of changing and feeding Eva when she wakes up, finding ways to keep her entertained and safe while her little synapses are rapidly firing for a few hours until it's time for a nap, then lunch time, then more play, then another nap, then dinner time, then a bath and bedtime...all while attempting to squeeze in work and ministry and make time for creative inspiration and housework in the cracks of the day can be a bit draining.
But oh, how they are also sacred, and sprinkled and filled with an immeasurable joy that I don't want to miss!
If there is one spiritual practice I return to again and again, it's this: learning to notice the presence of God in any moment of the day -- most especially in the ordinary ones. Praying the Examen, intentionally naming what I'm grateful for, and sharing those insights with others have been helpful in maintaining this practice. I haven't fully mastered it by any means, but the more that I do it, the more I begin to look for God in my day. I start to see His faithful love, His hesed, in the simplest ways.
There's a line from Doug McKelvey's "A Liturgy for Changing Diapers I" that I think of often:
"Open my eyes that I might see this act for what it is
from the fixed vantage of eternity, O Lord--
how the changing of a diaper might sit upstream
of the changing of a heart;
how the changing of a heart might sit upstream
of the changing of the world.
Amen."
So, this post isn't a how-to for the Perfect Prayer Practices for Busy Parents, and it isn't even an encouragement or admonition (or scolding?) to get you to read your bible more when your days already feel overwhelmingly full.
It's simply a, "Hey, there. Tending to our souls as parents can be tough. But you're loved. And God is gazing at you with wonder and pride and delight, right this very minute. So let's look up, catch His gaze, and let His love seep into our cracks and crevices."