JOY. I see this word scattered across my house, tucked into the Christmas decor everywhere I look. A raging reminder of my need for joy. My lack of joy. My deep and utter longing to reclaim the lost joy in my life. To return once more to that gleeful, child-like woman I used to be, not too long ago.
When they say that parenting changes you, nothing can prepare you for just how deeply and inexplicably, you change. When you hold your baby for the first time, your whole world changes. Nothing else matters but that tiny human. Before too long, you lose yourself in a wonderful world of hugs and diaper changes, and slimy hands that want to hold your unsuspecting face. You don't even see it coming, but suddenly, you don't recognize yourself anymore. You have lost your sense of self to this thing called motherhood. And I think- in it's own speciel way- that it's beautiful. Motherhood is supposed to redefine who we are and what we think we can do. It challenges the very essence of our strength and fortitude, stretching us to our breaking point. Yet somehow, we push past the fatigue and the emotions, and dig deep into the ocean of love that we have for our children. It's that very love that inspires us to get up each day and start again, faceing all the meltdowns and the tantrums, and the dirty diapers: to once again, find the joy and fulfillment that motherhood offers.
When we find ourselves stuck in the rutt of exhaustion and negative emotions, it can be hard to redirect our minds. It can often feel menial and monotonous. But even on those days, one can find fleeting reminders of why we chose to be a mom in the first place. It's those small- seemingly insignificant- moments, that make us who we are as mothers. The love that we have for our children, and the joy that we feel in the fulfillment of our God given purpose, alters our very beings, as we morph into the mother our children need.
The past couple months I've been in that rutt. Ever since Everett weaned, I've been struggling with finding joy and finding a new sense of purpose in who I am. I've been nursing and/or pregnant for nearly 4years. Even though I never particularly enjoyed nursing (rough nursers both times!), I loved that I was able to do that for my children. It made me feel like a successful, worthy mother. When Everett's nursing journey came to a fairly abrupt (and unpleasant) end, I felt like I had failed as a mother. It's been over a month now and I'm still struggling with that feeling of failure. I'm frustrated and sad, and frequently feel overwhelmed with life. All of which is robbing me of my joy.
But God. God was not done yet.
God is not done working on my heart, or bettering me for my children. He has been speaking to my tired heart, whispering that it's time to find that joy again: HIS joy. "The joy of the Lord is my strength," shall be my song. My word for 2023 is: JOY. With the help of the Almighty, I want to retrain my mind to let go of this feeling of failure. My son is strong and healthy. That's all that matters. I want to focus on the joys of motherhood instead of the struggles. Motherhood IS a blessing. My children are GIFTS. I am choosing to walk through life accordingly, with that in mind. Keeping my eyes on the Lord, to live in JOY.
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