I've been a mom since I was 17 years old. I couldn't buy cigarettes or beer if I wanted to, but I was buying diapers. I was a mom before I was even an adult. How in the world did I raise children?!?
Being a mom is not a burden, but it is a heavy weight to carry. I like to say that my oldest raised me instead of me raising him, and I'm in awe of the woman that he helped raise.
I've mothered through many versions of myself. My oldest weighed 2 pounds at birth but hasn't missed a beat since. When he was six months old, he could hoist himself out of his crib. We lowered the mattress, but to no avail. His physical strength at a young age was amazing!
He was always stubborn. He refused to potty train. We tried everything. I clearly remember when he brought me one of his toys and said, "Here you go. I pooped my pants." So I added it to the display of things we had taken from him as "punishment." I wasn't teaching him anything.
He was a lot for his kindergarten teacher. She called me at least once per week. I finally told her to stop calling and do whatever she wanted with him. I had spent five years trying to force my will on a stubborn child, and I was carrying a heavy load.
I was out of ideas, but he wasn't. He always came up with something new to keep us on our toes.
There is a lot to his story, but my favorite chapter is when my tiny, stubborn baby went on to be a state champion powerlifter his senior year. I'll never forget the day of the state meet. He left his squat suit behind (I am very certain he left it at the regional meet just weeks before, because we never found it). We didn't find out about this major mishap until about 15 minutes before competition time. Covid stole his chance for a gold medal in 2020, but I knew 2021 would be his year… unless he couldn't lift.
So I wandered around the arena. I prayed. I cried while my husband asked every coach in the building for a squat suit. Shout out to the coaches from Hawley, TX. Y'all earned gold that day. I was a mess, but my son wasn't phased at all. He hit a personal record and won the dang thing.
That was the last time I watched him compete in high school athletics.
My heart was full, but I also felt a void. The boy who made me a mom when I was still a child was becoming a man. He would soon leave high school behind. But I wanted to start over. Would I be a better mom if I could do it all again?
The true weight of motherhood was heavy on my back. I often think about the literal weight he had to carry as a powerlifter - the squat bar, the bench bar, and the power clean bar, all loaded down with unimaginable weight.
During each meet, he had three chances at three different lifts. If he missed a lift, he got a red light and a do-over, but the do-over meant he had to stay at the same weight instead of bumping up his weight for the next lift. He also couldn't lighten the load in order to get the next lift. A white light meant he could lift heavier on his next attempt. The goal was always nine white lights - three successful attempts at three different lifts.
When my oldest left for college, I was two kids, and what seemed like two red lights, into motherhood. I was stuck with the weight of my failed attempts. I couldn't get better. I couldn't try for gold. The weight was emotional and spiritual. I had to remind myself that just like my state champion, I could find the strength to earn a white light, but I could not lighten the load, and it would take some work.
If you ever look in the mirror and wonder what you could've done better or what you should've done differently, please know that the answer is "nothing." You are stronger than you know.
Just like every athlete can strive for the gold medal, you and I can push ourselves to carry the weight. We might leave our equipment behind at times, but have no doubt, there is always someone hanging around willing to help, just like my heroes from Hawley.
We simply have to look around and start asking.
I am not sure how I finally found my strength. I know it took a lot of prayer, self-reflection, and asking for help. I had to understand and take ownership of my place in this world. I can honestly say that I am finally confident in myself as a mother, a wife, a worker, and a friend. I realize that my calling is found in the ordinary of each day.
Motherhood is a heavy weight to carry, but it's not a burden. Even if we miss a couple of attempts (and we will), we have another attempt waiting for us. We can't take weight off of the bar, but we can ask for help.
It takes work everyday to live out our calling, and when we are weak, HE is strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9 states: "And He has said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest upon me."
God's grace is enough for even the most challenging situations, and His strength is revealed most powerfully when we are weak and dependent on Him.