I had a conversation with a weary mom recently; she lamented all she needed to accomplish on top of her already busy schedule with the kids. As she walked away, she resignedly concluded, “I just need to be Supermom for a few weeks.”
I clearly remember one particular evening I attempted my Supermom act. We were having a dinner party at our house after a busy week, and my youngest daughter, who was about five, was clearly longing for some mom-time. No Problem, I thought. I’ll put on my cape. My plan was to sneak away from being hostess for bits of time and spend a few minutes here and there with my daughter. Half-way through the evening, exhaustion set in and my superpowers began to drain, so I sent my daughter to the shower.
When I went to check on her, I noticed right away the empty bottle of conditioner. My daughter was smothered and slick, and so were the plethora of Barbie dolls she brought into the shower.
I chucked the wet dolls to the side, pulled PJ’s over my slimy five-year-old, sung a fast-forwarded “Jesus Loves Me,” and turned out the lights.
She instantly starting crying. “My Barbie’s can’t go to bed naked!”
“Yes, they can. They’re Barbie’s.”
“But they’ll be so cold!”
“They don’t have feelings.”
“How can you say that, mom?” And the sobs grew more intense.
I picked up the slimy dolls and began the process of clothing them one by one. After dressing Barbie number two, my frustration was at its max. While sitting in my daughter’s dark room, I began mumbling commentary on how dumb Barbie dolls are, and how dumb conditioner is. Sweat began forming as I imagined how I was going to explain my long absence to our company: Sorry, I had to dress Barbie dolls. It just didn’t sound terribly normal.
I finally threw the doll in the corner, shut the door, and told my daughter to go to sleep. That’s when the tantrum started:
“You only dressed two of them! The rest of the Barbie’s will be cold! And you said dumb!”
I left her in her room crying and went down stairs, shedding my cape along the way. I felt awful. And not for the Barbie’s, just to clarify.
Supermoms do not exist. No matter how awesome our cape, we’re human and human’s fail. But the beautiful reality is that we’re not expected to be super – we can’t live up to that self-induced expectation. Unfortunately, we often conjure up the idea that a good mom equals having it all together, but this is not what the Lord calls us to. He does not call us to be super but to be faithful.
Faithfulness in the super days
Thankfully, there are days when things go smoothly. There are days when the kids don’t fight, when an actual dinner is prepared, and we feel an extra amount of energy for the after-school activities. These super days happen, but not because of anything in us; it’s not because a certain schedule was followed or the “right” activities were chosen. These super days happen because of God’s grace and strength working in us. This truth is reiterated in Nehemiah 8: “…the joy of the Lord is your strength.”
It’s tempting during a super streak to look down on other parents who haven’t had many super days. The answer is not “do what I do,” but encouragement to look to God and His Word, the source of our strength in this journey through motherhood. The Word of God fills us, and His strength enables us.
Faithfulness in the mundane
Some aspects of mothering are neither super nor difficult – they are just mundane. There is laundry to fold, schedules to sort through, and kids to chauffer. But these seemingly menial moments are where we can be most faithful.
With kids between the ages of ten and sixteen, I have said one too many times to sleep depraved mothers: This too shall pass. But I’ve realized of late how unhelpful these words are. When my children were infants, I remember thinking that I’d get my life back when they got older, that I’d come out on the other side and gain back my ability to flourish.
The problem with this perspective is that it leaves out the reality that God rules in the everyday details of our lives – none of it is without meaning. If I miss this truth, then I’ll live every year to the mantra of, “next year will be easier,” and forget to live in the faithfulness of the day. The goal in parenting is not ease or excitement; the goal is faithfulness to our calling in whatever today may bring. Romans 11 reminds us that, “from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever.” All things belong to Him – each and every aspect of our day can and should bring glory to Jesus.
Faithfulness in the failures
Most of us identify more with “Failuremom” rather than “Supermom.” It’s hard. Being a mom is hard. Thank the Lord that He does not expect us to do it on our own. Not only are we meant to live in community, but the Lord tells us in Matthew 11 to “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”
We can bring our yokes to the foot of the cross. It’s there that Jesus takes our burdens and gives us restoration. It’s there that we learn from Him – from his gentleness and humility. I think of this verse when I lash out unintentionally and am forced with all humility to apologize to one of my children. It’s not always easy to seek the Lord in our weakness, but our kids need a mom who loves Jesus more than they do a Supermom who gets it all done just right. We are in daily need His mercy and grace, and the beauty is that He gives them freely and readily.
The night we had our company over, I finally relented and excused myself to care for my daughter. Not surprisingly, I was shown much grace in my humanity. I slipped back into my daughter’s room and laid down with her while singing a few songs and praying for patience for us both. She put her arms around my neck and whispered, “It’s OK if you don’t care about my Barbie’s, mom. I still love you.”
She doesn’t need Supermom. She just needs me.
And I don’t need a cape. I just need Jesus.
