the death of motherhood

When I became a mother nobody told me about the death that would come with my new life. Nobody told me I would lose all of myself in the trenches of babies and childhoods. Nobody told me I would give all the best of me, only to find the worst of me. Nobody told me how desperate a small breathing human can make a Mama or how broken she can become while building up children for the Kingdom. Nobody told me…maybe because nobody could?

There is no story that will settle in our hearts enough to tell us how it is. We must walk the trenches of motherhood on our own to find the Truth that lies between the building and breaking of one’s old self…for the birth of our new one.

We give and they take…and we die a bit more.

We hold and they let go…and we die a bit more.

We walk and they run ahead…and we die a bit more.

We feed them and starve ourselves…and we die a bit more.

We chase and they run away…and we die a bit more.

We speak and they ignore…and we die a bit more.

We watch and they look away…and we die a bit more.

We cry and they don’t hear us…and we die a bit more.

And after all of our living and breathing and fighting for who we thought we were…we finally just declare death. We lay down our life. All of it.

And by doing so…we declare victory. We pick up our new life, alive and running. This thing called Motherhood is like a sickness that will not end in death when we can breathe this very life through His glory.  

We must lay down our life to gain the one He has planned for us. We must keep giving. For life happens when we die, so somebody else can live. We must keep holding. For life happens when we don’t let go. We must keep walking. For life happens when we are on the path with them. We must keep feeding them…and ourselves. For life happens when we offer the bread of life and take it, too. We must keep chasing. For love can be caught and there is life in that place. We must keep speaking. For life comes from the words of our hearts. We must keep watching. For our view offers life to the unsure and unworthy. We must keep crying. For we find our life when we cry out for Him.

In many ways…motherhood is the death of me. But in the ashes burns a new me. One that couldn’t be seen, until I found life in the place where I laid mine down.  This thing called motherhood… it does not end in death. But by dieing through this journey, I have new life. I have handed mine over to Him time and time again…and each time He hands back another piece of me to be used for His Glory. For the glory of His children. My children. Our children. We gain life, when we die for Him. And we become life-giving Mothers. Risen for Him.