Learning how to Breathe

A friend once told me that motherhood is a continual pouring, a calling to surrender 'self' for the sake of our children.  For me, great tension exists in the letting go.  There is a resistance, a desire to keep some of 'me' protected.  It is this tension, this guardedness, that brings me to my knees in search of release.


The conviction is always the same: If I am to parent in the way of love, I must surrender every last piece of myself.  I must let go of the 'me' I have created and embrace the 'me' that God wishes to reveal.

Recently, I came across a quote from a blog I follow:

"It’s always fear that brings tension — the tension that brings the pain. And then it’s the pain that makes us think that we can’t go on… So when the world contracts tight… breathe deep, and let it all come with no fear, no fear."

Who knew that raising children is very much the same work as birthing them? With each contraction there is a decision a mother must make.  Will she fear the rhythms of labor or will she embrace their power? Will she resist the pain or will she surrender to it?  Will she breathe or will she keep her breath within her?

As the days of parenting dawn with unabated regularity, I find myself reminding my weary heart to breathe.

           'Surrender to the moment and release the fear,' I whisper as I rock a crying babe. Breathe.

           'Listen to his heart as you gather his flailing arms in your embrace,' I tell myself as I scoop up my distraught three-year-old. Breathe.

As I breathe, I discover that there is peace on the other side of each breath.

I know that with each breath, I am slowly learning how to let go.  I am teaching my sinful heart to surrender to the unpredictability of being a parent. I am placing myself in the realms of holiness.  Parenting is the place where God is revealed in splendorous beauty.  It is the place where what we give is always overshadowed with what we receive.

Lord, fill me with your breath.  Remind me of your presence.  Help me to 'let go' and embrace the refining work you desire to do within me.  Thank you for the gift of two precious boys.