“I heard you were pregnant again,” she states as I stand before her.
“Yes, four months,” I respond.
She boldly questions, “What are you thinking? Don’t you want to finish school or something? Don’t you want to do something with your life?”
Here I stand face to face with the delusion I have battled all of motherhood. This falsehood that is usually relentlessly whispered by the enemy, I am now confronted with by someone who is a leader in a church ministry.
Unwilling to let her see that she just knocked the wind out of me, I resolutely declare, “The doctor may not have found out what I am having yet, but I have a promise spoken in my heart by God, that this boy will have the heart of a giver and full of compassion even greater than that of his father. The call of motherhood is a holy and sacred honor that God has called me, too.”
The words I speak I want so desperately to believe as the lie resounds. It would take a few years after this confrontation, and after our third baby and only son is born, for me to be able to stand and know with firm conviction, I was born for this. It would take a heart transformation for me not to look out the window for something better, past the beautiful eyes of innocence I have staring back at me.
Wrestling with this ungodly belief that my labor as a stay-at-home-mama had no significance, because so much of my time was squandered away housekeeping doing seemingly mundane time-wasting tasks that had no value, I found myself more than once, piled in a heap on the floor crying out to God, “I feel like such a waste. There has got to be more than this,” while, deep down knowing being home with my children was my sacred calling.
I will never forget the day that came after a culmination of hours of prayer and tears and study, that I stood in God’s Presence, and I realized the gravity of the lie I believed that motherhood had no importance in this world or His kingdom. I will never forget the indignation I felt toward the enemy of my soul because he was exposed as the one who comes as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. I will never forget the liberation I felt when I could honestly stand and say,
I WAS BORN FOR THIS and then believe wholeheartedly…
That children are God’s best gift!
The fruit of the womb, His generous legacy.
Like a warrior’s fistful of arrows
are the children of a vigorous youth.
Oh, how blessed are you parents,
with your quivers full of children!
Your enemies don’t stand a chance against you;
you’ll sweep them right off your doorstep.
Psalm 127:3-5 The Message