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My Facebook account is a place where my Instagram posts auto-populate and where my faith in humanity goes to die. One of the redeeming qualities though, is the reminders of my struggles of yesterday. I wrote this in 2018. My oldest was 2 years old and my eventual middle child was 3 months old. I had undiagnosed celiac disease and struggled with constant pain. My middle child had colic and was miserable. It was a rough patch.
With that context, here is a word from 2018 Laura:
When I was expecting my first child, I heard this idea that motherhood was supposed to be empowering.
For me, this was not true. We got off to a really rough start with some health issues. I felt rather like I’d been hit by a truck.
At present, we’re in a season where both of my boys just need a lot from me. And there are times when I just ask God to give me the energy for one more day, for one more hour, or even for ten more minutes until my husband gets home.
Mothering is good, honest work, and it needs to be done. Empowering? Not really.
But perhaps it wasn’t intended to be. Perhaps it was intended to stretch me to the ends of my own strength, my own compassion, and my own patience, all to make me remember that God is sufficient, even when I am not. That’s a beautiful thing.
Children are a blessing from the Lord, and He has taught me so much already through my sons.