The bear in me came out of hibernation just long enough to let out a massive roar during a moment of frustration with my littlest child.
All morning I practiced patience with my son—and because of the wild child he is, that’s no easy feat. I was holding myself together in spite of his near constant whining, crying, and doing the exact opposite of what was asked of him.
Until I wasn’t. Because it turns out patience is finite.
After my outburst in response to his disobedience, I placed myself in time out because my son needed a break from me as much as I needed a break from him.
As soon as I shut my bedroom door, my heart dropped as my mind replayed my biting words and harsh tone.
“What is wrong with me?” I wondered with tears surfacing in the corners of my eyes. And I began making a mental list of all the other moms I know who would never yell at her kids.
“Mom A would NEVER do that.”
“Mom B would be horrified by my behavior.”
“Mom C is just so.much.better than me.”
And on and on it went. All the way down to Mom Z who no doubt enjoys every single second with her kids.
After comparing myself with all the perfect moms I know, I began to question why God even gave me kids. Surely he was aware of my incompetence, impatience, and inability to get this parenting thing right.
One bad moment yanked me into a cycle of comparison and despair—and I grabbed hold of self-pity for good measure.
But you know what pulled me out of that cycle? Truth.
The truth that there is not one mom who is getting it right all the time. There is not one mom who NEVER loses her cool. There is not one mom who is perfect. And there is not one mom who isn’t in need of forgiveness.
Because we all fall short. Because we are all human. Because like life itself, motherhood is a process of growing, changing, becoming—all to the tune of imperfect.
Day in and day out, I’m brought to my knees in this season of motherhood, with nothing left to do but pray; with no choice but to cry out to God a million times over and rely on nothing but his infinite strength in my infinite weakness.
Because even though my patience is limited, his grace is not.
And that’s the truth I’m living in today.
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