My girl is a daddy’s girl. Only three and she loves her daddy!
I love that she loves her daddy; I really, really do. But I have to admit that there are times, like when Daddy works late and she’s tired, when something happens…a bumped head, a bruised knee, and all she wants is Daddy — well, my heart feels a little sad.
This little one, my firstborn, this one who first taught me the depth and joy of a mother’s love sometimes refuses to be comforted in this mother’s arms. These arms that long to calm and quiet and wipe away each tear. These arms that seek to protect and hold close sometimes feel helpless, and all I can do is trust her to my Daddy’s care. My Heavenly Father who cares even more fully, more deeply, more completely than I do. My Father, who mysteriously loves her even more than I do.
Sometimes it’s just like that for Moms. We pour out for our children. We spend every minute we can loving and serving and being for our children. And sometimes we’re too close. We see each up and down, back and forth, over and under, and sometimes, being so close, we miss the big picture.
When our child, young or old, runs to the comfort of one other than ourselves, when we wonder if we’re making any difference at all, when our love feels unrequited, we’re missing the big picture.
Sometimes, we serve when it’s not noticed, we give when it’s not appreciated, we love when it’s not returned … but we do it anyway. We serve and we give and we love because God served and gave and loved us. And we do it with joy
By God’s grace, we do it with joy. What a privilege!
But sometimes, some days, days like today, as I was upstairs getting dressed, I heard a sweet voice downstairs asking Daddy where Mommy was, “my mommy.”
Daddy, where’s my mommy?
and my heart just melted. She who was right by Daddy’s side, still wondered where Mommy was. She who’s with me every day, most moments of everyday, still wondered where her mommy was.
And then I heard more. In her soft, little voice her heart was clear:
I just want to be by her. I just want to be near my Mommy.
In that moment, all of those doubts and insecurities those qualms of whether or not I was making a difference dissipated. With those few words, the misgivings disappeared, and I was reminded that though we don’t often see the fruit of our labors, we labor not in vain.
Be encouraged, Sisters. Whether your babes were born to you physically, through adoption, or in a spiritual sense, whether your babes are fresh from the womb or fully grown, your labor is not in vain.
May I encourage you to abide in Christ? Your source of strength, hope, and joy. Abide in Him. Depend fully on Him, and cling to His Word. Seek each day, each moment, to give your child back to Him, to trust Him for her care, and keep on keeping on.
Your labor is not in vain.
“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time, we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” (Galatians 6:9)