I wake up with the bridge of a song that includes those lyrics dancing its way through my heart one morning. Darkness? In the most glorious season of my life? To a loved one with lesser insight it may indeed appear that this season must be glorious. Without question, it is. It is also the most difficult.
She asks me if the anorexia is a thing of the past and I don’t know how to answer. I can’t feign a smile so I duck my head and mumble a weak ”yes”. How do I explain to anyone that I am carrying life within my womb that I was told would very likely never dwell there, and that I still carry the same thoughts within my mind that led me to the relapse that landed me in the intensive care unit of Naksero Hospital, Kampala?
I have been a mother for six years now but find myself questioning daily whether He has finally made a mistake. I used to wonder that far more frequently than even this. There have been other seasons. Lest i ever forget grace that carries me…
When your eldest daughter is having what can only be described as ”trauma-related seizures”, evening upon evening, and no medic will hand you even an inkling of a diagnosis, you will learn how to be a mother.
When your youngest daughter needs at least two people to hold her flailing body and carry her into the safety of her bed at night, daily for months, you will learn how to be a mother.
When your daughter’s body, mind and soul are so tormented by the spirit of rejection that she will hang onto the gate and wail at the top of her lungs, if you ever leave the house without her. No matter how safe she is. No matter who surrounds her as I briefly step outside of the fray to run errands. She doesn’t understand love. She has never tasted stability before, and you will learn how to be a mother.
When your middle daughter spends most every hour of her day in our church, in one practice or meeting after another and still has a propensity to lie like no person you have ever been in relationship with before. She will pray with all the passion of the Father’s heart during a service, yet cares little for serving the members of her family. You and your husband discuss whether in her orphan spirit she truly considers herself an island- after six years of belonging to you and her sisters. She will tell you her friends think her name should be ”Joy” but no name will serve to cover up the insecurity that still threatens to course through her veins. You are never fooled by her smile, wide as Lake Victoria. You know your girl, and you will learn how to be a mother.
Your Father will usher your husband into your life and you will begin to see how very differently I should have been handling discipline. What a mess i had created. Never condemned, he has taught me that mercy triumphs over judgement and what that love looks like when worn by myself. I learn further how to be a mother.
A well-meaning friend attempts to encourage you with these words” if it is too tough for you, you don’t have to have another one.” A friend you thought knew you better than most everyone(other than my Peter). When have I ever taken the broad road? When have i ever left the narrow path for companionship or smoother terrain?
Expectations are such a cruel portion. I choose grace.
After six years I did not expect to be utterly terrified by motherhood once again. Satan has one plan for my life: total devastation, likely initiated through fear. Thirty three years later and I have yet to abandon my Strength. The darkness currently encroaching upon my sunlight hours and my dreams after night-fall must flee. They do not bear His Name or mine. I will live on.
”I’m going to catch the wind.”