Motherhood: Let It Break You But Don’t Despair

Today I am more than thrilled to welcome Molly Sabourin to the blog!  Molly is the author of one of my absolute favorite books–Close to Home.  I first read her book when my oldest was 3 years old and, to put it mildly, quite a handful.  Reading Molly’s book was like reading my own story.  It encouraged me in ways that I cannot even express.  So, it is with great enthusiasm that I share this beautiful post from Molly Sabourin.

 

Divine Liturgy was hopping this morning, with prayers and squeals, bowing and rocking. While hymns were being sung, toddlers were being redirected every 30 seconds or so. It was loud, bustling, and holy. Mothers wandered in and out of the nave, simultaneously comforting and shushing their little ones while trying to participate in the service. They are brave to show up, these selfless mothers, and work our their salvation in this way, considering the herculean effort it requires to raise a family in the Church, and how uncomfortable it is to be the recipient of unwanted attention drawn by the outbursts of tired children.

 

I said a prayer for each of them, and I said a prayer for the mothers whose children weren’t at liturgy because they’ve wandered away, for now, from their Orthodox faith. I said a prayer for all of us because motherhood is hard, way harder than I ever imagined in 1998 when I was pregnant with our first and full of shiny unyielding assumptions about what constituted a “good” mom. I was determined to be one.

 

Oh my goodness, had I comprehended how thoroughly I’d be knocked down, stretched, and ripped apart by the years to come, I would have approached this whole mothering thing with heck of a lot more fear and trembling. But maybe it’s better I didn’t. Maybe that naive, arms wide open-ness is exactly what I needed to rush enthusiastically forward toward the unknown, where awaiting me was one continuous mystical cycle of death and rebirth.

 

I am not the same woman I was when I started this journey and I will evolve yet again, and again, as my children continue to pass on from one stage to the next. The lessons I’ve learned thus far have been surprising, and humbling. In this post, I will share with you three of them in the hopes that just perhaps one or two of them might be relatable and bring you comfort. I, myself, find rest and renewal in being simply understood.

 

I believe with all my heart we are all in this together.

 

 

1. Allow yourself to be broken but don’t despair

I always knew of course that when I became a mom I would really love my children. What I could not comprehend, however, until I was actually immersed in baby onesies and diapers, and getting but five interrupted hours of sleep a night, was how vast, demanding, fierce, and overwhelming maternal love could be. So vast, in fact, it couldn’t fit in my pre-mom heart without repeatedly exploding it into a thousand tiny pieces and reconstructing it all over again, only bigger and more pliable each time. I hadn’t expected it to take over every single fiber of my being, or to flood me with such anxiousness, insecurity and joy.

 

Motherhood is a unique vocation in that the “work” itself is made up of live persons with feelings, quirks, and their own distinct personalities. Because of this our competency is often judged (by the world and ourselves) by the outward behaviors and choices of our very human sons and daughters. The struggle to lay aside our pride and, without fanfare or a pat on the back, love our children as Christ loves us in spite of our frailties and weaknesses, with patience, resilience and gentleness, is a constant struggle. Being misunderstood or flippantly summarized feels like swallowing a burning coal but, from an Orthodox perspective, can be spiritually medicinal if accepted as a gift from God as a means of softening our hearts toward others. After having lived through:

 

• Carrying a screaming, flailing three-year old up the loooong escalator of a Barnes and Noble
• Causing the entire store, IKEA, to be put on lockdown because, in my exhaustion, I had a very public panic attack thinking I had misplaced my newborn (she was only feet away from me in her car seat)
• Leaving countless liturgies in tears because my children would not, could not, sit still and be quiet
• My fair share of “could you help us with your spirited child” parent/teacher meetings
• Teenagers

 

I am slow… very, very slow, to pass judgment on another mother. And thanks to my own numerous childish outbursts and parental face plants, I am quick to forgive.

 

 

Something so beautiful about our Orthodox faith is its hopeful view of brokenness as an indispensable salvific tool. Our brokenness and failures, when offered up to Christ, produce meekness, cultivate compassion in our souls, and keep us clinging to God for strength and wisdom.

 

Motherhood is a mirror revealing weaknesses we hadn’t been aware of previously but which now stare back at us all obvious and unavoidable.  Though it stings, this realization can be a springboard for some serious growth if we can view it as an opportunity to dig deep and weed out the sins which keep us chained to self-centeredness and earthly cares.

 

 

2. Pray and then speak

When my oldest daughter started 7th grade I had a lot of important things to tell her. Having learned so many life lessons the hard way in middle school, I was determined to help my own child avoid some of the pitfalls I’d fallen into at her age. I lectured her about friendship, popularity, being herself, keeping a schedule, until finally one afternoon I walked into her room and she said, “Please mom, no big talks today.”

 

I have to watch it, all the time. The excessive talking, and explaining, it causes shut down in my kids’ brains. I see it when I’ve lost my temper and beat a dead horse with my words. Their eyes glaze over and their hearts harden. In my rage, I become obsessed with winning the argument, and being RIGHT! Rarely does understanding result from these heated exchanges, only resentment.

 

After all these years of being a mom, and after having tried every trending parenting technique out there (time outs, sticker sheets, natural consequences, chore charts…) I have come to the conclusion they are hard to maintain because relationships are not formulaic, though, admittedly, sometimes, when I’m really spent, I wish they were.

 

Sometimes, I wish if I just followed consistently the steps in any given parenting book, it would guarantee the results I think I want:  obedient, subservient, room-cleaning offspring. It is tempting, especially when strong wills assert themselves, to resort to “controlling” (or attempting to anyway) my children rather than “guiding” them. But this produces only surface level results, often at the expense of our relationship. Controlling them involves many lectures, rules and uncompromising consequences. Guiding them requires prayer, A LOT of it.

 

Pray and then speak. That’s what to do with your children. If you are constantly lecturing them, you’ll become tiresome and when they grow up they’ll feel a kind of oppression. Prefer prayer and speak to them through prayer. Speak to God and God will speak to their hearts. That is, you shouldn’t give guidance to your children with a voice that they hear with their ears. You may do this too, but above all you should speak to God about your children. Say, “Lord Jesus Christ, give Your light to my children. I entrust them to You. You gave them to me, but I am weak and unable to guide them, so, please, illuminate them.”

-Saint Porphyrios

 

I, personally, am much more receptive to gentleness than harshness. Encouragement spurs me on while criticism beats me down. The most profound spiritual truths I’ve acquired have been discovered through falling and getting up again, falling and getting up again. Christ’s mercy is what leads me to true repentance. So why should I think my kids would be any different? Just like I ache for God’s goodness, beauty and grace, my children ache for that divine grace and compassion as well, and, here’s the amazing thing, as their mother I can become a tangible manifestation of that grace if I empty myself of pride and stay rooted to Christ through ceaseless prayer.

 

 

I need, need, need divine wisdom, so much wisdom, and patience. Every night, I stand at our icon corner and pray for each of my children individually. I ask God to forgive me for my screw-ups and to make me a better mother. I implore Him to help me know when to open my mouth and when to listen, when to put my foot down and when to give another chance. But most of all, I ask Him to grant me the wherewithal to become a living breathing example of Christ-like love.

 

Ideally, I’d pray before every conversation with my children, and before I reacted to any indiscretion. Ideally, I’d lay each of them at Christ’s feet, trusting He loves them more than I do, and remain hopeful, peaceful and open to His leading.

 

I am working on this.

 

 

3. Look for the good

The last parental epiphany I want to share with you has to do with the importance of connection. There will be certain developmental stages that will make you want to tear your hair out and have you wondering, in tears, where you went wrong. These stages will pass and you will survive (and you are a good, loving mama!!). While in the midst of them, however, it is absolutely essential to keep an eye out for even the smallest glimpses of goodness and to create as many positive connections as possible that aren’t accompanied by correction.  Believe me, I have gone through some really trying stages and this epiphany, this determination to seek out the good, is what has kept me from going completely under.

 

 It is so easy for us moms to fixate on the negative, seeing only that which needs improvement instead of the many characteristics in our children worth celebrating. Whether we mean to or not, this primarily negative mindset dampens the spirits of everyone involved. Yes, these trying stages require increased vigilance, boundaries, and follow-through but for every interaction involving necessary discipline, I try and insert into our day one that doesn’t– a purely positive interaction without caveats or ulterior motives. We’ll read a story together, or maybe watch a show together. I’ll ask questions about something they are really interested in, or give a specific compliment – anything to convey to my sons and daughters that they are unconditionally loved and cherished “as is,” no matter what. Any breakthroughs in communication will most likely take place when my kids feel treasured instead of just tolerated.

 

And the same goes for us moms. Fixating on our own shortcomings robs ourselves and our households of joy. Like my children, I am a work in progress. I have strengths and weaknesses. What comes easily to others might be a challenge for me and vice versa. When I expect perfection of myself I become plagued by chronic discontentedness, and tend to stay down when I fall down. Perfectionism leaves me vulnerable to despair.

 

When I am gentle with myself, however, allowing room in my journey toward salvation for both victories and setbacks, my recovery time after stumbling is much, much shorter. I pray a prayer for forgiveness, ask forgiveness of any family member I may have wronged, and move forward, one small step at a time, trying each new day to be a little more patient, a little more thankful, and a little more selfless than I was the day before.

 

I have learned to refuse to compare myself to anyone. Comparing myself or my children to others is spiritually dangerous, like opening up a Pandora’s Box of passions.   

 

St. John Chyrsostom said:

“God has distributed gifts and blessings in such a way that every person has a particular place and purpose within a society- and thus everyone is equally necessary for a society to function well. So, do not resent the fact that someone is more intelligent or stronger than you are. Instead give thanks for their intelligence and strength, from which you benefit. And then ask yourself, “What is my gift, and thence what is my place in society? When you have answered this question and you act according to your answer, all contempt and all resentment melt away.”

 

Sure, it would be awesome if I were less easily distracted, more organized, had a better sense of direction, or if my family meals didn’t depend so heavily on Honey Nut Cheerios and frozen tortellini. I know I’m not always consistent enough, or good about assigning chores to my kids (I make their beds myself). I am not crafty.

 

I could beat myself up about all these mother-ey things I see other moms doing better than me, but then I’d forget about what makes me special, and the best mom for these four kids God purposefully placed in my care. I encourage creativity. I laugh a lot. I’m a great snuggler.  I am pretty proficient at french braiding hair. I stress, very heavily, kindness and compassion in our home. And I adore my children.  I love, love, love them with all of my heart and soul.

 

Both for your inspiring gifts, and for my own God-given talents, I am very grateful!

 

Not long ago, my son and daughter were bickering while doing homework at our kitchen counter. My son was being annoying, like pre-teen boys are wont to do, and I asked him to stop. Being in an amiable mood, he did and even apologized for it. My daughter, still annoyed, remarked, “Yeah, that’s nice and all but I just forgave you for doing that like twenty minutes ago and you’ll probably do it again twenty minutes from now.” All of that was true, of course, but I calmly reminded her that that is what Christ does for us–forgive us over and over and over again for the same old transgressions. His mercy never tires; it has no limits. That’s what I long for my children to learn from being a member of this family– how to forgive, let go, and start over a thousand times a day. Love hopes! Love perseveres! Love never ever gives up!

 

I have been pummeled by motherhood but I am softer for it, wiser for it, and more appreciative of the abundant little joys and blessings found in abiding in the present moment. God, forgive me, guide me, correct my erring thoughts, and grant my beloved children not what is easy, but what is profitable for their souls. May our collective brokenness make and keep us merciful to each other and to our neighbors, and hungry for You.  

 

 

Molly Sabourin is an Orthodox Christian blogger, podcaster, and photographer. She is author of Close to Home: One Orthodox Mother’s Quest for Patience, Peace and Perseverance from Ancient Faith Publishing. She and her husband Troy live in northwest Indiana with their four children.