Being a mom helps me understand my Father

On the day after Mother's Day, I will have been a mom for 20 months. My little girl is picture perfect. (And boy do we have lots of pictures.) She is everything I could have ever hoped for and dreamed of. She was and is an answer to prayers.

I think I've always known I wanted to be a mom, though being a stay-at-home mom wasn't always my plan. I went to college, studied to be a music education major and worked in a public school for one year, as an assistant to the music teacher. I was married at the time and knew in my heart that I didn't want to continue to work (outside the home) after we had children. Thankfully, my husband is very supportive of this decision and works hard to provide a good home for us, allowing me to devote my life to caring for my family.

I had no idea how hard being a mom would be.

We decided that we were going to start our family after a few years of marriage, and like most people, had no reason to believe that we would have any problems. But we (or more aptly, I) did. Just getting pregnant was a struggle. Without going into a lot of (boring) detail, it took a year and a half, fertility medication, a lot of embarassing and disappointing doctors' visits, an early pregnancy loss and much prayer to finally get and stay pregnant. Even the beginning of that pregnancy was a little worrisome.

As it turned out however, my little miracle was a stubborn fighter. She was so stubborn that she refused to be born without an eviction notice (an induction date when I was 2 weeks overdue). Then, she made her appearance the day before she was going to be "kicked out". That day was without a doubt, the best day of my life. I can still remember looking at her face for the first time and being so amazed that this perfect little person, this unbelievable miracle, was being entrusted to my care. She was everything I ever wanted and I have never wanted to do a better job at anything in my entire life. I wanted (and still want) to be the best mom that little girl can have.

Being a mom is hard. I love her more than my words and even actions can ever express. I would do anything to keep her safe. There is nothing she could do to make me stop loving her. Nothing...ever.

But liking her is sometimes a little harder. She is still very stubborn. (She gets some of that from me.) She has an independent streak a mile long. She is intense in everything...intensely joyful, intensely angry, intensely sad, intensely loyal and loving. She knows what she wants and grabs on like a pit bull until she gets it. She's a little more "spirited" than most toddlers. (Some have called it "challenging" and "strong-willed", but I prefer "spirited".) She's a handful, to put it mildly. So it's no wonder that with little-to-no outside help, a husband who works long hours and no family close-by, I sometimes feel like I am at my wit's end.

Lately, I've been there a lot. My daughter is fighting hard against sleeping. She wants "mama" to do everything for her, and only mama. She does not say any words other than the occasional "Mama" or "Dada", making it quite difficult to understand what she wants at times...many times....and in the course of a day, she wants a lot of things and she wants them NOW! I find myself frustrated with her a lot.

Being a mom is hard and rewarding, but more than anything, it gives me a new perspective on how God views me. God is my Father and I am His child. I know He loves me more than I can ever understand and that He would do (and has done) anything it takes to keep me safe. I know His love is forever and nothing I can do will make Him stop loving me.

But I also realize with a new understanding that it's probably pretty hard for Him to like me a lot of the time. I do things in my own stubborn, independent way. I want things I either can't have or don't need, but still insist on having. I throw temper tantrums when things aren't going my way. I want Him to fix everything when sometimes He is trying to teach me to do it myself. In short, I act like a toddler and it probably frustrates God to no end. It probably makes Him want to throw up His hands and say, "That's it, I can't take it any more."

But He doesn't. My heavenly Father loves me more than I can understand and He give me a daughter just like myself, so that I can begin to better understand His perfect love for me, through my imperfect love for her. And in just the same way that Emily's perfectly sincere expression of love through a slobbery kiss and a toothy grin can erase all my frustrations in a heartbeat, my sincere (though sometimes messy) prayers of thanks and expressions of love to God probably warm His heart more than I can imagine.

So...Thank you God for loving me and all my imperfections. Thanks for being my Dad. I love you.

And I love you too, Emily.