On Being a Good Mom

Mother's Day is a polarizing holiday. There are those who lean into it and are sensitive toward those who are mothers as well as toward those who would long to be mothers. There are those who almost refuse to recognize it out of principle. There are those who attempt to include all women, even those who never plan on being a mother, under the umbrella of celebration.

Facebook is replete with temporary profile pictures, grown children with their mothers who are now grandmothers, young children with their young mothers, and everything in between. There is the opportunity to reflect not only on what your own mother was to you, but also on those other women who throughout your life have mothered you apart from blood or family ties.

And so I write this, aware that I will eventually exclude most every kind of mom or not-mom except for the kind who are living in the same place that I am: a mom with children still at home.

My boys are now 5 and 6, stair steps with just 15 months between. They share the same hair color, the same eye color, and are often mistaken for twins. Sometimes I catch a glance of them doing something and think, "I can't believe they're mine." When I let them out of the car for school in the morning and see them walking up the sidewalk together, backpacks and lunchboxes in hand, it sometimes feels like time is slipping away, and I remember cold winters with the younger one in a carrier on my chest and the older one holding my hand as we walked around the block ad nauseum, trying to make long days pass a bit faster.

Five years ago on Mother's Day, I was coming home from the children's hospital with my week-old baby, then free of the threat of jaundice, and welcoming my fifteen-month-old who wasn't walking yet. Two children in diapers, one mobile, but unable to get himself into the car alone. I'm surprised I didn't lose more weight in those first few months.

That same year, because of Cohen's early birth and the timing that placed his arrival square in the middle of Christian's final seminary exams of the semester, I looked Christian in the eye and said, "I can't have any more babies right now." We still thought we had at least 3 years left of seminary, and I felt extraordinarily overwhelmed.

Now we are in a beautiful stage where everyone can handle bathroom issues alone, everyone knows how to get dressed, and everyone can walk safely from one place to another. We've come a long way.

But it doesn't mean things are easy. If anything, in some ways, they are harder. The options for dealing with a two-year-old throwing a tantrum are relatively simple. The consequences for a six-year-old who lies willingly are more complex. There are expectations built up over time, and there are experiences that start to dictate to children how they think things should be. Just today, my parents were taking the boys to see a movie, which is a rare treat in our home, and my older son cried because it wasn't the same movie theater we went to in November. "There are some things worth crying about," I said for the one-hundredth time, "but this is not one of them."

I do not feel like more of an expert on parenting than I did when Stephen was born just 10 months after Christian and I got married. If anything, I feel more unsure of the best way to handle certain things. And so it is always a struggle when a fellow mom shares her current struggle, and asks me what I think she should do.

I have learned that what works for my kids might not work for your kids.
I have learned that discipline is best done not by a rigidly responding to every infraction, but by looking into your child's heart and seeing what is really there.
I have learned that you can put your kids on a schedule or you can let them sleep in the bed with you, and they can still turn out alright.

And yet what I keep hearing and seeing on the Internet and in the lives of my friends is the harrowing question, "Am I a good mom?"

We all know there are moms who are moms only because they give birth to children. From even before their children are born, they do not care for them. But they are moms. And then there are moms who seem to have it all together. I think most of us feel that there is a spectrum, and we are somewhere on it, but daily we slide back and forth between one end or the other. "Well, I didn't yell at my kids today, but I did feed them goldfish for all three meals."

I hear friends confessing something they did or didn't do in regards to their children, and what they are really asking me is if I think they are good moms.

I have spent the last 6+ years striving to be a good mom, and I know that if I asked on Facebook whether or not anyone there thinks I am a good mom, there would be a resounding affirmation that yes, Chelsey, you are a good mom.

But what happens when we ask God that question?

"Lord, am I a good mom?"

Jesus is not interested in puffing up our self-esteem or giving us fluffy reasons to feel good about ourselves. That may not feel like love to us, but it is, because love means telling the truth.

And the truth is that none of us are good moms.

You can feed your child 100% organic food, but it doesn't make you a good mom.

You can homeschool your children from birth through high school, but it doesn't make you a good mom.

You can read to your children every night before bed, but it doesn't make you a good mom.

And if you are already doing those things, then don't stop doing them. There are a thousand good things we do each day for the sake of our children that we should all keep doing. But they don't determine whether or not we are good moms.

The gospel says that none of us are good anythings, but that recognizing that is the first step of following Jesus. If I comprehend the fact that I am not a good mom, then I am desperate to find someone who is good, who does know what I should do—someone who can help me.

Jesus came for the neglectful moms and the helicopter moms. Jesus came for the healthy moms and the junk food moms. Jesus came for the working moms and the stay-at-home moms. Jesus came for the public school moms and the homeschool moms. Because none of those moms are good, and all of us need Jesus.

This Mother's Day, I hope you can be thankful for the children God has given you, even when being their mom feels like a burden. And I also hope that you can find true freedom in the gospel of Jesus Christ. May you continue to love your children well, all the while knowing that the only reason you can do anything is because of the love that has already been poured out in your heart by our God, who both mothers and fathers us with tenderness and compassion.