“I’m coming! I will be right there.”
Her whimpering had gradually escalated into full blown cries.
By the time I went back to the bedroom to finally see what all the commotion was about, our too-young-to-roll-over-by-herself baby girl was balancing face first off the edge of the bed.
She was teetering off that king-sized cliff while screaming her little heart out.
Obviously, gravity was taking a coffee break that very minute.
One leap, a gentle catch, and impeccable timing assisted this shocked mother of three in the rescuing of a frantic (and apparently now crawling) child. She was safe.
One would think that caring for two previous babies would prove the fact that yes, they will start to roll over and scooty crawl the first chance Mama looks away. You know, when there are no cameras around to capture the moment.
In my case, it was the chance to invite a friend over to see our new girl. Which meant I needed the baby to stay snug and secure in the safest spot of our bed so I could put on some mascara in the bathroom down the hall.
My experience as a practiced mother told me to put her in the crib. Common sense told me to put her on a blanket on the floor. Her big brother told me he would watch her, but I insisted she would be fine.
Was this an opportunity to scold myself, feel incredibly neglectful, regretful, and downright foolish? Yes.
Was this an opportunity to realize, once again, that they grow up and change so stinkin’ fast? Yes.
Was this an opportunity to rededicate my commitment to be a fantastic mother who never makes mistakes and will never wear mascara again? Yes.
That is where I was wrong. (Well, that and the whole leaving my baby on the bed by herself thing.)
This potential accident-in-the-making was also my chance to thank God for the gentle reminder that no matter how hard I try, I will never be a perfect mom.
I’m not supposed to get it right all the time. There are too many scriptures pointing me to the glaring fact that I desperately need Him. Too many verses saying He will be there for me and with me in my times of weakness and failure. See 2 Corinthians 12:9-10.
If I were a perfect mom, I would be completely self-reliant.
I would be tempted to bask in the glorious glow of all my flawlessness. Chances are I wouldn’t seek God’s help at all – much less His direction for my life and my family.
My children would grow up believing I had all the answers. I would never need to point them to God. They would have no need for Jesus.
Eventually, our entire family would simply worship me.
Even if I walk this path of motherhood fault-free and never make another mistake, I would still not be worthy of worship.
I would still not be able to grant my children the eternal forgiveness and salvation required to walk their own way with Jesus.
I would never be able to do that for their children. Or my neighbor’s children. Or your children.
Imperfection keeps me needy.
How many times a day does motherhood afford the deep cry of, “Lord, have mercy!”?
His mercy allows us to be imperfect, full of mistakes and sin, exhaustion and frustration. His mercy keeps us needy.
Neediness keeps us coming back to Him, which is right where we’re supposed to be.
Blessings,
Angelene Woodard, unqualifiedmom.com
