We Weep

September always finds me in the one month of the year where my children are only one year apart, and I always reflect, and I always cry.  In just one short month, I have a four year old and a two year old in this house, and I weep.

I'm a mother.  I've accepted this is what we do.
We weep for the time past.
We weep for the importance of each moment of the present.
We weep tears of joy and apprehension for what is to come.

A friend of mine today mentioned that being a stay-at-home mom is one of the hardest jobs because you literally parent yourself just as much if not more than your children.  What you see in the mirror is reflected back in their actions and is imprinting on their hearts.  And I weep, because "Oh dear Lord and Father in heaven, what I see is a mess!" most days.

I weep because I know my children will inevitably inherit and battle my same weaknesses and inadequacies in some format.  I weep because even though I desperately seek the Lord and beg Him to change me, I know I will never be perfect, and I will pass down these imperfections to my two little ones.  I weep because they will struggle just as I.

And then I weep because I fall on my face and beg God for forgiveness and change and understanding and a passion to do better, to seek Him, to find Him, to know Him.  Because only in this unwavering pursuit will I be able to find the path my children need to take.  Only if I focus on Him and in essence forget about them, will they see Christ in this life.  In this home.

I weep because in my own confession God already pours out His sweet warmth of grace and comfort and assurance that He has called me as His own, and He will call the hearts of my children as well.  I weep for blessed peace this undeserved grace brings.  The tears flow softer.  The ache lessens, but the weeping is as necessary as breathing.

My God collects all my tears in a bottle.  I'm jealous.  How I wish I could do the same for my own children. To let them know that each of their hurts were so precious to me that not one tear goes forgotten or unnoticed.  I weep because I am grateful for a God who can and who does and who will continue to do so.

Now tears of thanks, I weep because--Praise God!--He reminds me that my children will not just inherit my weaknesses, but they will learn and develop in the light of my strengths--God's strengths really.  His gifts of talents, character qualities, abilities, and passions to me will be the areas my children will learn to thrive in as well.  If they are wise.  A wise person always seeks to emulate all that is right and change all that is wrong.

I weep in prayer for that kind of wisdom for my children.  I weep in gratitude that my God hears and has already answered such prayers.  He is already doing a new work!  In me, and in my children.  I weep for joy knowing the strengths God has given Joey and I will only be added to the strengths He will give our children.  If they will learn to live in the light of our Lord, they will learn to see and recognize both our strengths and theirs.  In learning that all their strengths are all because of God and all their inadequacies because of their own sin, they will be greatly blessed, and they will greatly bless others.

I weep inwardly again knowing that I must lead them in such a way that they see these things, that they learn them, that their hearts are turned toward the things of God.  Grace wipes away tears.  I can do nothing.  God must do everything through me for them.  I must seek my God and love Him no matter what.

As mothers we weep.  For all these reasons and more.
We weep for the time past.
We weep for the importance of each moment of the present.

We weep tears of joy and apprehension for what is to come.

We weep, and God collects every tear, so not one is meaningless.