the gift of mothering.

Today is my eleventh Mother’s Day, and I’d like to give thanks for the gift of mothering.

Being a mother is a daily, moment-by-moment chance to practice the command of Jesus to lay down and die to myself, to take up my cross and follow Him.

Being a mother has broken me, has shown me the limits of my performance and control like few other experiences in my life.

It’s revealed the depth of my sin — the capacity I have for laziness and self-pity and anger and resentment.

It has pushed me to the limits of my wisdom and energy.

It’s challenged my idols of people-pleasing and comfort.

Being a mother has stripped off the veneer of my tidy image and grabbed hold of my attention and turned it to Christ. For this, I am grateful and happy.

Coming to the end of myself has allowed me to see what’s true: that God is the most beautiful, good, holy, and true Parent.

I am a sinner. I am weak. I am limited. But He is not.

He is everything I can’t be and so much more. He’s rescued me from the prison of my sin and my self. As a Father, He sacrificed everything — His own beloved Son — so that I could be saved from the punishment I deserve, and live as a new creation, with the hope of spending all eternity with Him.

I’m so glad for the hardships of mothering. I rejoice in them, just as I rejoice in my limitations and my weakness. All these things keep me dependent.

The grace of God is sufficient for me. His power is made perfect in my weakness.

I’m thankful that being a mom who needs Jesus has allowed Julie to become smaller. God chose me to be the mom of four precious, unique kids, and I’m not going to fight Him on that. I’m not going to tell Him I’m not up to the job because it’s so hard.

I’m going to embrace my calling today and hold my head up high, because I am not sufficient as a mother, but Christ is sufficient.

I’m going to look for ways to minister to my children today. Sure, I’m a pastor’s wife. I can sit and converse comfortably with the homeless and recovering drug addicts and foster children and soccer moms and business executives. God has given me a love for those people. But many days I need Him to convict me and show me that first I’m called to minister to the people in my own home. I repent of the moments that I think that they’re “in the way” of my ministry, and I trust His Spirit to give me patience and love and delight in them.

My children are unique and smart and fun and honest and stubborn and gifted. There is much to celebrate in each of them this Mother’s Day. God is writing their stories. Our good moments loom large and our hard moments are just a normal part of living in fellowship together. I choose to begin my prayers for them with thanksgiving, and to be a “grace detective” – to become more aware of the ways God is working in their lives than the ways they are failing (Elyse Fitzpatrick).

I continue to discipline my kids today with consistency, not for perfectly behaved children, but because God tells me to shepherd and train them. I ask God for endurance to do it again tomorrow. All the while marveling that because I’ve made this investment since they were born, those discipline times are fewer and further between. Instead, we have conversations. We learn to speak to one another respectfully, even when we disagree. We apologize to each other. We forgive. We laugh. We play games and read books and have so much fun.

On this Mother’s Day, I am endlessly grateful with the patience my children have shown me as I learn how to mother, in fits and starts. They love me and look up to me and forgive me again and again when I’m harsh or impatient or distracted. Rachel Jankovic says, “I’ve found that the most challenging person in my family to parent has been myself.” I agree. And yet these kids love me anyway. It seems that we’re all growing up together.

I’m thankful for the gift of learning to own my sin instead of making excuses for it or blaming my children. I’m thankful for the ways my pride gets shredded on a daily basis. I’m thankful for learning to laugh at myself. The joy of the Lord is my strength.

I’m thankful for the new gospel light-heartedness in my parenting because the pressure’s not all on me. I can’t control how any of this turns out, or tell God how He’s going to use the different members of the Gentino family to glorify Himself in the future, but I can rest knowing knowing that His will for every single one of us is good and true and wise.

I’m thankful that this Mother’s Day I’m looking out and around me for other people to bless and to mother. Not in the controlling-helicopter-mom-way, but in the encouraging, life-giving, truth-speaking way. I love my mom. I love my mother-in-law. And how grateful I am for the countless other women who’ve also chosen to love and invest in me even though we’re not biologically related. God is pouring His love into my heart, and calling me to rise up and be that kind of woman, to use my influence for His kingdom. And I’m saying “yes.”

Because of the difference Jesus has made in my life, I love the glorious, messy, transformative, humbling gift of mothering.