Post-Partum Fear and the Fruit of the Spirit

“But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.

If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another.”

Galatians 5:16-26

I've had a lot of anxiety recently about transitioning from one to two children. Our miscarriage extended an invitation to really savor all of the extra one-on-one time I would have with our firstborn. While I have so enjoyed my time and adventures with him over the past few "extra" months, I'm incredibly conscious recently of the way that a second child will complicate our relationship logistically and emotionally. I had quite the turbulent entrance into motherhood the first go round. The arrival of our first child shook our marriage in ways I didn't anticipate. Fluctuating hormones, difficult circumstances, unmet expectations, and a lack of sleep revealed things about my heart that were hard to see, and I imagine hard for my husband to live with.

A few weeks ago, as the stomach bug ripped through our house and potty-training added an unexpected emotional riff to my relationship with my two year old, I found myself filled with fear as I thought about what was coming in just a few weeks. What would welcoming a newborn look like with a toddler thrown in to the equation this time?

The vintage Jinny Lind cradle in our room is an ever present reminder of our second son's impending arrival. I find myself filled with both joyful anticipation and anxious dread each time I see it. Above it hang 9 beautifully illustrated floral prints from Ruth Chou Simons bearing the fruit of the spirit. Last night as my eyes drifted up from the wooden cradle to study those petals, I was both convicted and encouraged.

As I anticipate the arrival of another little one, I have been so easily convinced of the fruit of fatigue and post-partum hormones and change: a short temper, depression, anxiety, frustration. But there is so much danger in imagining a future circumstance without considering God's word. There is no telling how the arrival of our second son may parallel or differ from that of our first. I could spend (and have probably already spent) hours dwelling on why this transition might be better or how it may be harder. 

Our marriage is stronger. We are both more experienced parents. I can see tangible ways God has changed me and made me more like Jesus. I know what I'm doing more than the first time. Our community is richer. We have a better idea of what to expect. We got a doula this time.

But our two year old is going to struggle to adjust. I will be jealous watching other people get to play with and enjoy him while I am nursing. I will be exhausted and he will likely be dealing with big emotions and outbursts. He will need to be lifted and hanging on me while I am sore and recovering from childbirth. My hormones may make me depressed or emotionally unavailable.

Any of those things may or may not end up being true. Any scenario I imagine may or may not come to fruition. But what I do know about our quickly approaching post-partum experience is that God's grace will be sufficient. His power will be made perfect in my weakness. He will be an ever present help in my time of need. The spirit will intercede for me with groanings too deep for words when I don't know how to pray or ask for help. And Christ, my great high priest, who is able to sympathize with my weakness, will stand ready to forgive my failings, covering them with grace and somehow still using them for God's glory. These certainties move me from fear to faith. These meditations move my anxious mind away from the fruit of fatigue, hormones, and change onto the fruit of the Spirit. 

Where I fear distance and resentment, He offers Love.

Where I fear baby blues and the dreaded darkness, He offers Joy.

Where I fear the intensity of post partum anxiety and a lack of predictability, He offers his Peace.

Where I fear my short temper and anticipated frustration with my husband and toddler, He offers Patience.

Where I worry about my biting tongue and thoughtlessness, He offers Kindness.

Where I worry about what will be exposed in me when my circumstances reveal my worst, He offers Goodness.

Where I fear my reactivity and tendency to be harsh when tired, He offers Gentleness.

Where I am concerned that I will neglect his word or disciplines, He supplies Faithfulness.

Where I fear reactivity and the reign and power of hormones, He offers Self-Control.

These things are not the result of a good night's sleep, balanced hormones, more reading, or stronger will power. They are the fruit of abiding, of asking in humility, and of trusting my Father to provide more than I allow hormones, fatigue, and pain to control.

The Holy Spirit is stronger than hormones. God's word is more certain than any of my imagined scenarios. And Christ's peace is greater than my fears.

Written and published by Abbey Wedgeworth of Gentle Leading.

Choosing Joy

I love my silly girl.

She has such a funny side to her, and never shies away from trying to make me laugh.

And sometimes, I really, really need to laugh.

Like today. Today was the kind of day I experience every so often, especially right before a surgery or development evaluation. The kind of day when I look at my sweet daughter, and just want to weep.

Weep for what is ahead, because she has no idea how hard it will be. Weep for what has been lost, though she’ll never know what exactly it was. Weep for all the hard work she has done, only to experience gut-wrenching regression. Weep for what will never be.

Will she wear that white wedding gown, or hold suckling babies to her chest? Will she ever walk, or talk, or drink? Will she ever be able to forgive me for putting her through surgery after surgery and therapies upon therapies? When I tell her she can’t play with the other kids or participate the way she wants, will she hate me for it?

But oh, she loves. I don’t think she can hate. Even the things that are hard or frustrate her... she comes through smiling - through tears, but still smiling. And I have to remind myself of this very wonderful fact about Elyse: she comes through with joy. One moment she could be beside herself, in pain or just unhappy with what she is being made to do.... but give her time, and she forgets, moves on, and can be seen and heard gloriously laughing! That cheesy grin always appears after tears. Always.

I have to believe this for her as she grows up and becomes more aware of her reality. When distraction isn’t so easy, and smiles are more of a choice than a feeling. I wish it could stay as simple as it is now.

But for tonight, I choose joy. I choose to believe God has a greater purpose in all of this. I choose to see the good. I choose to be happy. I choose to let every trial and every setback bring me closer to His heart. And when I consciously make this choice, the smile surely follows. Not because my situation has changed (sometimes, it actually grows worse) but because I have His presence, His comfort and His peace that passes all understanding. God alone makes sense of the senseless.

This is my prayer for Elyse Joy. Baby girl, if you read this one day, I want you to know that happiness isn’t to be found in being anyone other than who God wants you to be. And more than anything else, God wants you to be HIS. If you are God’s, sweet girl, known and loved by Him, that’s all that matters! May His love and ownership always bring a smile to your dear, sweet face.

“And ye now therefore have sorrow: but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.” John 16:22

Keep smiling, friends!

Originally written and posted on Facebook by Katie Millen, mama of three beautiful children, one with special needs.

Invest in the Mess

Recently, my 20 month old son Moses learned the word “messy”. After spreading food all over his hair/face/chest/high chair, he will look up at me with a concerned expression and say, “Uh oh, messy!”

The fact that he says, “Uh oh!” before the “messy” is something he has learned from me. In my opinion, messes are an uh oh. I do not appreciate mess. I do not enjoy cleaning up messes. As a mom of two little boys under age two, I feel perpetually surrounded by MESS.

After months of frustration and discouragement at my inability to contain the chaos of life with little ones (and two big dogs who delight in shedding hair everywhere), the Lord sat me down for a little chat.

To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.

Ecclesiastes 3:1

Jesus answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.

Luke 10:41-42

Not only had my obsession with keeping my home in perfect order taken my joy, it had interfered with my goal of spending quality time with the Lord, digging in to His Word and coming before Him in prayer while my kids napped. As soon as they hit the sack I would immediately rush to get the dishes done, the clothes put away, the toys back in their place. Only after everything was in order would I sit down with my Bible…and nine times out of ten I would have 5 minutes before the first kid would wake up and the crazy start all over again.

Please note the incredible mess in the background of this pic.

I found myself resenting my precious little guy whose goal was not to maliciously ruin Mommy’s day by doing what little ones do best and leaving a mess wherever he toddled. I found myself nagging and nit picking my husband every time he would leave something on the counter or the floor. I found myself jealously comparing myself to the other moms who seemed to have immaculate homes and perfectly clean children who delightfully started cleaning up after themselves at six months of age.

I came to the realization that I need to embrace this season of mess, for my own sanity’s sake and also for the well-being of my family, but ultimately for the glory of God. This is the season He has placed me in. My toddler is learning and growing and developing, and that means spilling and smearing and leaving a disaster in his wake more often than not. Of course, I shouldnt let my home fall into a perpetual state of squalor, that’s not God-honoring at all. But exhausting all my energy and joy in trying to rid myself of the inevitable messiness of life that accompanies two little boys under two robs me of the pleasure of enjoying my precious family and investing in these fleeting moments of childhood and parenthood.

My husband is my example of investing time in what truly matters.

So. I’m going to stop freaking out when my clean living room turns into a train wreck in .5 seconds after Mosha wakes up from nap. I’m going to stop apologizing all over the place in embarrassment when the handyman comes in and has to step over mega blocks and a pile of goldfish to get to the water heater closet. I’m going to stop being a Martha who is “worried and troubled about many things”. I’m going to stop envying other moms and their seemingly perfect homes (and kids and makeup and hair and lives).

I’m going to glory in the season God has given me. I’m going to marvel at the milestones my little Moses and Thadeus hit. I’m going to thank my God for the gift of children and a legacy and all that entails. I’m going to follow Mary’s example and put my time with the Lord FIRST and trust that He will honor that and give me opportunity to complete my to-do list after. I’m going to put down the laundry and leave the half-cleaned kitchen and spend the remainder of my evening with my husband after the kids have gone to bed, investing in our marriage and having face-to-face time with him. The unfinished chores will be there tomorrow, guaranteed. The precious moments with my family are not so guaranteed.

I’ll leave you with this image of Mosha after he flung chocolate milk all over himself and our car, leaving a sour milk smell that lasted for weeks.

Written by Natalya Brown.

Slow Down, Weary Mom

I heard him cry in the monitor.

Seriously? I thought. Three straight nights of post-bedtime tears. I was so over it.

Walking up the stairs, I devised a scheme to get me out of his room as quickly as possible. But as my feet hit the hallway leading into his bedroom, I felt God’s gentle nudge.

Slow down. He needs lullabies of grace tonight.

I took a deep breath of faith, and for the next forty minutes, I sang my scared little boy to sleep. My lullabies had calmed and quieted his four-year-old soul.

Like a Weaned Child with His Mother

I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me. (Psalm 131:2)

How does God calm and quiet our souls? Like a mother.

Most of us have witnessed, in some way, the soul-calming effect of a mother’s presence on her child. There is safety with a mother, just as there is safety in the Father’s arms (Isaiah 33:2). The child hears peace in her voice just as the sheep hear peace in the Good Shepherd’s (John 10:27).

When a child is hurt or scared or sick, he calls for his mother. He trusts her completely. If the mother he trusts teaches him that there is one in whom his soul can trust even more, then hopefully, one day, he will cry out for Jesus instead.

God’s good purpose for mothers goes beyond feedings and diapers and taxi services. He designed you, dear mother, to be your child’s first glimpse of his comforting love for us in Christ. No one is better suited for this job than you. What a privilege, then, for you to put God’s soul-soothing character on display for your children.

Rooted in God

In the message “Join Me in Soul-Satisfaction in God,” John Piper says, “Psalm 131 is about a kind of contentment, or stillness, or quietness of soul, that is rooted not in circumstances, but in God — a God who never changes in his utter commitment to us in Christ.”

If we desire for our children’s souls to be rooted in God as he describes, then we as mothers have the great responsibility of providing a climate that is prime for growth. Root systems thrive in rich soil and sunlight. With ideal conditions early on, roots are able to absorb water and nutrients that eventually help the plant thrive in less than desirable circumstances.

Nourish Your Child

The monsters and thunderstorms that induce fear in our children’s hearts right now will turn one day into real-life demons and tempests. We can begin the good work of preparing their souls for battle today. When our children come to us afraid or anxious, we have the God-ordained privilege of offering them rich soil and sunshine. Our hugs, snuggles, words, and lullabies are life-giving minerals to their souls.

How do we nourish our children? We offer them steadfast love and faithfulness. We bear with them, forgive them, show them kindness, listen to them, and offer them words of encouragement and life by sharing the good news of Jesus Christ on a daily basis.

Drench your child in God’s word. Shine light into his darkness. Sing him to sleep. Take your child by the hand and lead him to streams of water so that God can plant his roots down deep and allow him to bear good fruit in the coming seasons (Psalm 1:3).

Lay Down Your Life

Motherhood is exhausting. It requires all of our energy — both mental and physical — and at the end of the day, it’s not uncommon to feel like we’re doing it all in vain. At times, it feels like you’re giving up your life for your child. If it does, be encouraged that you’re probably doing it right.

By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. (1 John 3:16)

As we lay down our lives for our for our brothers and sisters in Christ, we also lay down our lives for our children. Today, take the time to kiss the boo-boos, wipe the tears, and sing lullabies of grace. Let your children rest in the comfort of your presence now so that they learn to rest in Jesus soon.

Originally written for Desiring God by Chelsea Stanley of Daughter Redeemed.