Grace Upon Grace: Motherhood Edition

But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.”

2 Corinthians 12:9

So in that case, this is a boasting post. Boasting in my weaknesses as a mother and rejoicing in the fact that because of Christ I am made strong in my weaknesses.

Let’s get it straight—I am not a horrible mama bear. The bear part just comes out too much sometimes, and it’s directed (frustratingly) at my kids. I know our kids shouldn’t have the power to push our buttons or dictate our moods, but like I said… it’s one of my weaknesses.

And last week, that weakness showed through big time. I punished out of anger, I yelled, and I threw my own tantrum while daughter threw hers. But I’m the adult and the example, and I wasn’t being either one with my actions. (No matter how sassy she was.)

Grace.

I apologized to her for my actions, and it became a huge teaching moment for both of us. I told her I should not have done that and that I was sorry for my actions. I told her that I need Jesus to help me just as much as I tell her to pray for help and guidance.

I told her (and she definitely heard my loud voice while I did it) that I had to retreat to pray, and that’s how I was able to come out more calmly to talk to her. I also explained that I’ll never be perfect, but I will do better at being an example for her—to be more like Jesus.

This whole episode reminded me of a story from 10 years ago.

We had lost everything in a fire and were living in a trailer on my husband’s aunt’s front yard. My daughter, at 3 years old, was trying to get her sheets made and wrinkle-free on her bed. The bed that was now an old futon, in a used trailer, in the busy, trafficked living room.

I explained to her that there was no such thing as a perfectly wrinkle-free sheet and that she needed to let that notion go. This frustrated her and she exploded… and then I exploded. It wasn’t a pretty scene.

Venting to my mother-in-law later that day brought revelation to the whole moment. She paused after my story and said,

“As an adult you are having a hard time processing and navigating what just happened, and so is she.”

And that has stayed with me ever since. Although it’s something God reminded me of recently, I will never forget that moment.

There I was trying to tell my 3-year-old to “let it go,” when she was just trying to navigate the trauma she had gone through as well. Her controlling the sheets was her way of creating normalcy. Her way of holding onto something physical when everything around her had slipped away and was chaotic.

She was organizing what she could, even though it wasn’t working.

(Isn’t that a life lesson for us all?)

I blew up on her when instead I should have shown her grace. I should have put my feelings aside, grabbed her, held her, told her she was seen and heard, and that everything was going to be okay. I should have told her I understood, but that wasn’t the way we express ourselves.

Fast forward to present time.

I am now raising a beautiful and strong-willed 13-year-old who needs just as much—if not more—grace than when she was 3 with her sheets.

Not only am I learning how to “train her up,” but she’s learning how to be a teen and navigate her own feelings and experiences. Shocker to her—mom doesn’t have all the answers, and we’re both in this together.

But just as I was her example at 3, she’s looking to me even more now at 13, and it’s my responsibility to shine Christ.

Ten years of learning grace and humility, and yet we still have meltdowns every now and then. (Because we’re human.) But we’re both still learning grace for one another.

One amazing thing about my daughter is how great she is at apologizing—a habit and posture that was learned. Honestly, she’s better at it than me.

Grace.

And as a parent of a teenager and a 5-year-old now, I have to pause and reflect more when things are happening. When they talk back, slam doors, cry out… why are they acting this way?

Too much time inside? Not enough connection with family or friends? A tough time with school?

It’s up to us to recognize the signs when they need grace, and also recognize when they’re simply pushing our buttons—because yes, that happens too. But I’m talking about those moments when conviction sets in and you know your child needs grace.

Recently my daughter said, “Mom, I just need a hug.”

That’s her way of saying, “I don’t know what’s happening, but I just need you.”

Grace is meant for you too, friend.

None of us know how to do this motherhood thing perfectly, and we aren’t meant to. We are meant to do our best with what we have.

Give yourself permission to feel, to ponder and reflect, to pray, to let go, and to free yourself from guilt and shame as a mother.

You, my friend, are the perfect parent for your child. Because God doesn’t make mistakes. And God is with you in every step and with every decision.

That pause time is meant for us to go to Him with our weaknesses so He can give us the strength we need to carry on.

Take a deep breath next time. See what’s happening in front of you. Retreat to pray. Then come back with the lens of grace on.

This practice will take practice. I know it’s still hard for me even after all these years. But once that grace is given—to your kids and to yourself—the whole atmosphere in your home changes.

Those grace lenses work.

And they are oh so worth it.

xoxo,

Steph

Your “grace needing and filled” friend