Today is Mother’s Day and I am thankful for many things. The way my baby sticks her cutest-feet-in-the-universe right in my face whenever she sees nail polish. The adoration of a toddler who’s seen me at my worst and for some reason still wants to be just like me. My own mother, who makes me brave. The fact that I married a man who’s sensitive enough to show me his heart, but strong enough to take care of mine.
I am thankful for Nutella, and the moms in the grocery store who don’t stare when my kids throw a tantrum, and the miracle of instant streaming. I’m thankful for this blog, and the inventor of sweat pants, and frozen yogurt you can pretend is good for you. For older women who don’t panic when I tell them my problems, and young moms who walk alongside me, and single girlfriends who still like to talk about boys.
But of all the things I am grateful for this Mother’s Day, most of all, I am grateful for grace. Sometimes I think about “high school Jeanne”–who had a heart full of passion, a head full of idealism, and seldom lost her temper–and I wonder where on earth she’s gone. I wonder how I went from daydreaming about impacting the world for Christ, to fantasizing about toys that pick themselves up, and espresso that can be directly injected into your veins. The truth is, I have never seen the depth of my own sinfulness and unworthiness with as painful clarity as I’ve seen it in the last few years. Of course it’s always been there, I’ve just never been “squeezed” enough to let it spew out quite so badly. Let’s be honest, “high school Jeanne” did not have children who loved to crawl all over her, and test the boundaries, and stick tiny objects into the DVD player. Instead, she had oodles of free time, and a mom who did her laundry.
But here’s the amazing thing about seeing how incredibly awful you actually are. It makes grace look BIGGER than it’s ever looked before. When you have a dirt-high view of your own righteousness, somehow it finally sinks in that you didn’t reach past this tiny gap, up into the presence of God. Instead, He reached down, down, down, down, down to you. The gap was gigantic–infinite. Which means the grace is gigantic. Infinite. Now that is a reason to rejoice! That is cause to smile, and celebrate, and throw your hands up high in worship!
The more I decrease in my own eyes, the more my Savior increases (John 3:30). And the more I put my hope in Him, the less I have to prove. I am a weak and sinful mother. But I have a GREAT and MIGHTY God, who loves me with all His heart. Today, more than anything, that is what I’m grateful for. Until I am old and gray, that will be the joy of my heart and the song of my life.