When You're not Mama Enough, Woman Enough: He is Enough

Esther Sophia,

You are six months old, slobbering trails across the carpet as you pull your slim baby legs towards the pile of red and blue Legos scattered just beyond your slender fingers. You look back at me, your mama, and smile till the dimples on either side of your mouth press in and those brown eyes light up my world.

Esther, there’s nothing more beautiful and terrifying than being your Mama.

I dream of years ahead—of tea parties and picnics on green grass, of dressing you in white lace and pink tulle, of mother-daughter giggles in the dark after bedtime stories. These are things my Mama never did with me and I wished she did.

My Mama hid in her sewing room, hid behind baking bread, teaching Bible studies, and grading papers.

My Mama hid her soul from me.

When I was nine, I sent my Mama notes scrawled in red crayon across pink construction paper saying “I love you,” craving for the words, “I love you too.”

To love and be loved,

To know and be known,

This was my soul-cry.

Esther, being your mama scares me to death because the same fear that kept my Mama from knowing and loving me threatens to keep me from knowing and loving you.

I’m afraid I’m not woman enough for this world, mama enough for you.

Just like my Mama, I’ve hidden behind to-do lists, Bible talk, and pretty clothes, desperately trying to prove I am enough!

But I’ve finally learned: hiding from the truth never works out very well.

Eventually you run into another woman who’s stronger, prettier, more organized, more talented, and in order to prove you are still enough, you tear down the feminine soul in front of you—the mama next door, the gal in the pew in front of you, the daughter crawling under your feet.

Esther, my fearful-feminine heart is tempted to cage you in a tiny box—as my mother caged me—and this caging, it's the cruelest form of tearing down.

Caging squelches the soul--the passion and personality that is you so I don’t have to face the truth about me—I am not enough.

But God—

Oh how I love the pregnant grace of these words—But God!

Rich in mercy,

Full of love,

He is enough.

This cage-breaking truth—that God is enough—brings me to my knees again and again.

It’s only when I’m on my knees that I’m woman enough, mother enough because HE is enough.

So, Esther Sophia, my daughter,

As we begin this mother-daughter journey together,

My soul believes God is enough,

And because God is enough,

I am mama enough for you,

You are daughter enough for me,

And together we will play, laugh, cry and fight our way

To know and be known.

To love and be loved.

To the Glory of the God who is Enough.

Love,

Your Mama

 "But he 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 of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

When You Can't Stand Anymore: Sit in Surrender

“Isaiah! You did not put your legos away when I told you. Go sit on your bed. Now!”

Four-year-old Isaiah stood at the bottom of our narrow staircase, hands on hips, eyes slivers of granite, blond hair curling over forehead. He glared up at his Daddy’s six foot, one inch frame, stomped like a young bull preparing to charge, and snorted:

“I’m not gonna sit. I’m gonna stand!”

Daddy-Jon leaned down and squeezed Isaiah’s shoulders up to his chin, lifting his body till his bare feet arched above the carpet. Jon said slow: “No. You will march upstairs and sit!”

Hanging from Jon’s grip, toes now grazing the carpet, Isaiah growled: “I’m gonna stand!”

From my front-row seat on the living room couch, I watched my four year old dangle from his Daddy’s grip, helpless, like a mouse caught in a cat’s paw, and suppressed the urge to laugh. Jon stared into Isaiah’s bullish face as he swung his taut little body up the stairs: “Oh, son. You will sit!’

Moments later, Isaiah sat on his bed wailing: “Fine! I’m sitting!” and Jon walked back into the living room saying: “What makes a four year old think he can defy me and win? I mean, seriously, I’m four times his size!”

Why does a dependant child defy a loving Daddy who desires to do him good, not harm, all the days of his life?

In Isaiah’s words: “I want to stand!”  He thinks he knows better than Daddy.

And adults—we’re not much different. We grow out of foot-stomping defiance and into stubborn refusal to submit to Father-God’s plans for our lives.

Rather than surrender to Him, we say “I’m gonna do it my way!” Like Eve in the Garden, we deceive ourselves into thinking God is withholding good things—delightful fruit. So we give God the middle finger while attempting to satiate our soul-bellies. We buy into the delusion that we can control life, that we’re good at playing God.

But after weeks, days, years of trying to control the uncontrollable, our souls bloat with emptiness. Then, like our mother Eve, we finally take a good look at ourselves and see who we really are—naked, weak, human.  

“The reason why many are still troubled, still seeking, still making little forward progress is because they haven't yet come to the end of themselves. We're still trying to give orders, and interfering with God's work within us. ” (A.W. Tozer)

It’s time to stop playing God.

To cease covering our naked humanity with mere Bible talk and outward acts of piety.

It’s time to lay our very lives at the foot of the cross,

Giving our Husbands,

Our Sons and Daughters,

Our Mother’s and Father’s, to Him.

Yielding our bodies, jobs, friends, money, to Him.

Offering our painful past, our present, our uncertain future, as a living sacrifice,

Allowing Him to satiate our thirsty souls, calm our fears.  

It’s time to sit in surrender, saying with four-year-old Isaiah:  

“Fine! I’m sitting! Your will be done!”

Not with fist-clenching resignation,

But open-handed, seeking the face of our good Father, 

Trusting Him to pen our story of grief and celebration

Into a Beautiful testimony of joyful submission.

Because it’s only when you sit in surrender that you truly live.

Submit yourselves, then, to God.

Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. ⁸

Come near to God and he will come near to you.

Humble yourselves before the Lord,

 and he will lift you up.

(James 4: 7-8, 10).

When You Can't Stand Anymore: Sit in Surrender

“Isaiah! You did not put your legos away when I told you. Go sit on your bed. Now!”

Four-year-old Isaiah stood at the bottom of our narrow staircase, hands on hips, eyes slivers of granite, blond hair curling over forehead. He glared up at his Daddy’s six foot, one inch frame, stomped like a young bull preparing to charge, and snorted:

“I’m not gonna sit. I’m gonna stand!”

Daddy-Jon leaned down and squeezed Isaiah’s shoulders up to his chin, lifting his body till his bare feet arched above the carpet. Jon said slow: “No. You will march upstairs and sit!”

Hanging from Jon’s grip, toes now grazing the carpet, Isaiah growled: “I’m gonna stand!”

From my front-row seat on the living room couch, I watched my four year old dangle from his Daddy’s grip, helpless, like a mouse caught in a cat’s paw, and suppressed the urge to laugh. Jon stared into Isaiah’s bullish face as he swung his taut little body up the stairs: “Oh, son. You will sit!’

Moments later, Isaiah sat on his bed wailing: “Fine! I’m sitting!” and Jon walked back into the living room saying: “What makes a four year old think he can defy me and win? I mean, seriously, I’m four times his size!”

Why does a dependant child defy a loving Daddy who desires to do him good, not harm, all the days of his life?

In Isaiah’s words: “I want to stand!”  He thinks he knows better than Daddy.

And adults—we’re not much different. We grow out of foot-stomping defiance and into stubborn refusal to submit to Father-God’s plans for our lives.

Rather than surrender to Him, we say “I’m gonna do it my way!” Like Eve in the Garden, we deceive ourselves into thinking God is withholding good things—delightful fruit. So we give God the middle finger while attempting to satiate our soul-bellies. We buy into the delusion that we can control life, that we’re good at playing God.

But after weeks, days, years of trying to control the uncontrollable, our souls bloat with emptiness. Then, like our mother Eve, we finally take a good look at ourselves and see who we really are—naked, weak, human.  

“The reason why many are still troubled, still seeking, still making little forward progress is because they haven't yet come to the end of themselves. We're still trying to give orders, and interfering with God's work within us. ” (A.W. Tozer)

It’s time to stop playing God.

To cease covering our naked humanity with mere Bible talk and outward acts of piety.

It’s time to lay our very lives at the foot of the cross,

Giving our Husbands,

Our Sons and Daughters,

Our Mother’s and Father’s, to Him.

Yielding our bodies, jobs, friends, money, to Him.

Offering our painful past, our present, our uncertain future, as a living sacrifice,

Allowing Him to satiate our thirsty souls, calm our fears.  

It’s time to sit in surrender, saying with four-year-old Isaiah:  

“Fine! I’m sitting! Your will be done!”

Not with fist-clenching resignation,

But open-handed, seeking the face of our good Father, 

Trusting Him to pen our story of grief and celebration

Into a Beautiful testimony of joyful submission.

Because it’s only when you sit in surrender that you truly live.

Submit yourselves, then, to God.

Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. ⁸

Come near to God and he will come near to you.

Humble yourselves before the Lord,

 and he will lift you up.

(James 4: 7-8, 10).

When You Can't Stand Anymore: Sit in Surrender

“Isaiah! You did not put your legos away when I told you. Go sit on your bed. Now!”

Four-year-old Isaiah stood at the bottom of our narrow staircase, hands on hips, eyes slivers of granite, blond hair curling over forehead. He glared up at his Daddy’s six foot, one inch frame, stomped like a young bull preparing to charge, and snorted:

“I’m not gonna sit. I’m gonna stand!”

Daddy-Jon leaned down and squeezed Isaiah’s shoulders up to his chin, lifting his body till his bare feet arched above the carpet. Jon said slow: “No. You will march upstairs and sit!”

Hanging from Jon’s grip, toes now grazing the carpet, Isaiah growled: “I’m gonna stand!”

From my front-row seat on the living room couch, I watched my four year old dangle from his Daddy’s grip, helpless, like a mouse caught in a cat’s paw, and suppressed the urge to laugh. Jon stared into Isaiah’s bullish face as he swung his taut little body up the stairs: “Oh, son. You will sit!’

Moments later, Isaiah sat on his bed wailing: “Fine! I’m sitting!” and Jon walked back into the living room saying: “What makes a four year old think he can defy me and win? I mean, seriously, I’m four times his size!”

Why does a dependant child defy a loving Daddy who desires to do him good, not harm, all the days of his life?

In Isaiah’s words: “I want to stand!”  He thinks he knows better than Daddy.

And adults—we’re not much different. We grow out of foot-stomping defiance and into stubborn refusal to submit to Father-God’s plans for our lives.

Rather than surrender to Him, we say “I’m gonna do it my way!” Like Eve in the Garden, we deceive ourselves into thinking God is withholding good things—delightful fruit. So we give God the middle finger while attempting to satiate our soul-bellies. We buy into the delusion that we can control life, that we’re good at playing God.

But after weeks, days, years of trying to control the uncontrollable, our souls bloat with emptiness. Then, like our mother Eve, we finally take a good look at ourselves and see who we really are—naked, weak, human.  

“The reason why many are still troubled, still seeking, still making little forward progress is because they haven't yet come to the end of themselves. We're still trying to give orders, and interfering with God's work within us. ” (A.W. Tozer)

It’s time to stop playing God.

To cease covering our naked humanity with mere Bible talk and outward acts of piety.

It’s time to lay our very lives at the foot of the cross,

Giving our Husbands,

Our Sons and Daughters,

Our Mother’s and Father’s, to Him.

Yielding our bodies, jobs, friends, money, to Him.

Offering our painful past, our present, our uncertain future, as a living sacrifice,

Allowing Him to satiate our thirsty souls, calm our fears.  

It’s time to sit in surrender, saying with four-year-old Isaiah:  

“Fine! I’m sitting! Your will be done!”

Not with fist-clenching resignation,

But open-handed, seeking the face of our good Father, 

Trusting Him to pen our story of grief and celebration

Into a Beautiful testimony of joyful submission.

Because it’s only when you sit in surrender that you truly live.

Submit yourselves, then, to God.

Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. ⁸

Come near to God and he will come near to you.

Humble yourselves before the Lord,

 and he will lift you up.

(James 4: 7-8, 10).