When You Feel Like A Less-Than Mother

“Lara, I think you’ve lost some weight.”

My mother-in-law’s words were a stake in my heart, though I know they were never meant to be. I finished zipping my jacket over my tiny baby bump. “Really? Maybe it’s just this jacket making it look that way,” I lied.  

She verbalized the fear I had pushed away all week. I’m not gaining the weight I’m supposed to.

Nine weeks into pregnancy, morning sickness came. Though I had not thrown up yet, each morning I was greeted with nausea that stayed with me all day. For most, this would be considered easy—at least you aren’t throwing up everything you try to eat. But for me, the mere thought of vomiting was crippling.

My fears of throwing up are what started my life-long journey of anxiety. After my first experience with the flu as a young girl, the thought of vomiting gave me a visceral reaction.  I would collapse into panic attacks—crying, screaming, sweating, shaking—anytime my stomach began to get that gurgling feeling. This fear became so strong that at times I refused to eat at all so I wouldn’t have something in my stomach to throw up.

The car ride with my mother-in-law was quiet as I nibbled a saltine. This is not what I pictured pregnancy to be like. Pregnancy was supposed to be exciting, full of pleasant surprises and sweet kicks in my belly. Instead, mine was filled with misery—reminders of the anxiety I had yet to conquer 15 years later as a grown woman. I felt like a weak child again, helpless to a fear that still held me in its grips.

God, why can’t I be free from this, even still? I prayed to myself, wondering and questioning with each silent plea: If I can’t conquer this anxiety, am I really ready for motherhood? How will I raise a courageous child, who can trust God in the unknown, meanwhile I still fight against this anxiety?

Momma, are you afraid that you don’t have it “together enough” to be a mom? Do you already feel like a failure when you see the put-together moms around you? Do you look at their perfectly still children sitting in the pews and feel like giving up?

Aside from my fears of throwing up, I have many other reasons to feel like a failure compared to my fellow mom friends. But God is giving me a new hope in him, and teaching me to stop looking around at others and start looking at him.

The Joy-Robbing Comparisons

It is a gift to be in a church with fellow mothers who love God and desire to raise their children according to his Word. It’s a joy to come alongside of them and to learn from their years of mothering, both by discussion and simply watching. We see in Titus 2 that this is God’s good intentions for the women in the body of Christ—that the older women would disciple and teach the younger.

“Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled.” (Titus 2:3-5 ESV).

Sadly, we have the tendency to turn that joyful gift into despairing heartache by comparing rather than learning. Rather than looking up to these women, we begin to despise and envy them in our hearts because we do not measure up. We compare our children, our words, our methods, and our choices to see whether we did better or worse. This creates for competition rather than fellowship, and exhausted sadness rather than joy.

This is what our sinful hearts are inclined to do. But we must train them according to God’s Word. Rather than giving way to despairing comparison, we should strive to learn from one another as God intended, and encourage one another in Christ. It’s not a competition but a relay race of passing the baton to the next generation, cheering on those who are still running, and learning from those who have years of training under their belts.

The Only Life-Giving Comparison

There is only one we should be comparing ourselves to in every aspect of our journey: Christ. Comparing ourselves to other women can lead to pride. But when we compare ourselves to Christ, we see ourselves rightly: An imperfect sinner who can never measure up. We realize that no matter how hard we strive, we will never meet his standard of perfection. Maybe with enough striving we could come close to matching our friends, but we will never match Christ in his blamelessness.

Instead of despair, this comparison should bring us joy as we remember the gospel. Christ died for imperfect people. He died for moms who would yell at their children, who would become annoyed with their chatter, and who would make poor choices. He died for sinful women like us. And he rose again, paving the way for us to rise to new life with him. He lived, died, and rose in perfection because we could not. And though we are totally undeserving of it, he accredits his righteousness to our account, as if we lived it.

When we trust in Jesus’ work on the cross and repent of our sins, he renews our hearts and give us the Holy Spirit so that we can obey him. Our new desire is not to strive to look like that put-together mom in the pew in front of us, but to look like Christ in order to glorify him.

If you are stuck in the game of comparison among the women in your church, remember the gospel. Preach this to your heart. Begin comparing yourself to Christ. In every aspect of your parenting, your goal is not to look like your friends, but to look like Christ. To lead your child gently as Christ leads the church. To teach them to repent of their sins and turn to Christ. This is your goal, momma.

The Sweet Tension

I stared out the window of the car, watching the evergreens pass by.

There was a sweetness to this tension of still struggling with my anxiety even now as a soon-to-be mom. As much as I hated the fear and wanted to be free from it, it was a constant reminder that I will never be a perfect mom. There’s no “getting it together” before baby comes. I am a weak and sinful human being who will always struggle, and so will my sweet baby. In those times of weakness, my baby doesn’t need a put-together-mom. My baby will need Jesus. And in spite of my own limitations and how much carrying a baby has reminded me of them, my anxiety has also been the reminder that in all my imperfections, I can point my baby to the Perfect Saviour.

Originally written for Strength & Song by Lara d’Entremont.

The Power of Gathering Around the Table: Beyond Hospitality

Gathering around the table: a once-almost sacred event, carefully guarded from distractions, is almost just a relic in American memory. Perhaps we have lost our understanding of its importance, consequently giving our allegiances to other activities which leave no time for the family dinner hour. Admittedly, we have begun to struggle with this as sports have monopolized our dinner time many days, giving us strong pause about our choices.

There are studies and research that provide astounding evidence to the benefits of gathering together around the table regularly, from lower rates of obesity to lower rates of drug use in youth. Importance of the Family Table (With a Look at Education Benefits) lists some of them.

The rhythm of gathering daily, the act of facing each other, poised to listen and be heard, partaking in a pleasurable activity together and enjoying the gifts of God that are recognized as such–these are life-giving things. It’s difficult to hold a grudge against someone with whom you are breaking bread and passing plates. Fellowship in inextricably intertwined with eating together. For that reason, we should guard our meal times religiously.

“The table is a place of memory where we…become aware of who we are and with whom we are. Around the table, all previous meals come together in every meal, in an endless succession of memories and associations. The table is the place where the family gathers, the symbol of solidarity, or indeed the backdrop to family rows and childhood tragedies. At the table the eater is tamed.” Why We Eat Together, The Atlantic

I’ve also been thinking about the biblical implications for the importance of table fellowship and it’s a beautiful thing to trace, encouraging us of even more meaningful reasons to make gathering a priority.

Jesus loved to tell stories using imagery of food. He called Himself the Bread of Life, promising to fulfill our insatiable appetites, and offering us the Drink that will cause us to never thirst again.

And in that life-changing Eucharist that points us to the cross over and over, until His return, He invites us to dine with Him over wine and bread. It’s an intimate fellowship at His table each time we gather so we make it a regular part of our worship, doing it in remembrance of Him.

The Eucharist should spill over to our own tables. And what does Eucharist mean? THANKSGIVING. Ultimately, when we come to table–the Lord’s table or our own, we join together in thanksgiving because we should. We have been given life and redemption, and abundance beyond that.

Do our children meet with us each day in Eucharist–thanksgiving? The older I get, and the more I see, the more I’m convinced that there is NO trait more important to cultivate in our homes than gratitude. I beg the Lord to keep my children from some of the self-absorbed, petty and destructive attitudes I see among so many young people I know.

And as our thanksgiving grows, it spills out onto those around us. Scripture encourages us to be hospitable–to those outside our homes as much as inside.

“A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed.” Proverbs 11:25

When we break bread with our neighbors, extended family or friends, there is an unspoken refreshment happening. We thank Him for our friends, and we thank Him for the hands and heart that, through ministry, labor to create a beautiful, tasty meal–even a simple one. Eucharist.

Let us strive to carve out, as often as possible, this time of gathering together, sharing a meal and sharing ourselves out of thanksgiving, leaving a powerful demonstration in our homes of what it means to live thankfully.

Originally written and published by Kelly Crawford. Used with permission.

On Guilt and Grief: Loving A Longing Sister In Your Season of Abundance

I have found myself seated on both sides of the fertility table. I have peered over my full plate into my sister's tear filled eyes, grieved by the emptiness of her womb and the pain of loss. I have also stared longingly at what my sister has been given, questioning why the tiny life I carried was not sustained while the one within her grew and flourished.

My nephew is a sort of marker for me of where our little one would be had he or she not died in the womb. My sister and my due dates were 3 weeks apart. Every milestone he hits, though I rejoice over his development, is a reminder of the milestones we will never experience with the child we lost: smiling, rolling over, sitting up, laughing, starting solids. As time has passed, the sting has lessened, but I have a feeling the sorrow will never fully subside. Because death is tragic. Because life is precious.

My first born son is a marker of this kind for someone very dear to me. I ached each time we were together while I was pregnant with him because I knew that my growing belly was a trigger for her, a reminder that her womb was empty. Even now each time I watch her playing with my son, who simply adores her, my heart aches for her over her loss. I miss her baby too.

To this day, these women are two of my dearest friends. But those initial weeks and months following each of our losses were admittedly painful and awkward, on both sides. The "survivor's guilt" that so often seems to plague the woman with full arms and a flourishing womb in the wake of her sister's grief can be a terribly lonely emotion.  It can also be accompanied by a feeling of responsibility for her sorrow, a desire to "fix" the pain of your sister, or even self-loathing or feelings of unworthiness. 

I fumbled to love my mourning sister in the wake of her loss as my belly grew. My sister who gave birth to her baby near the due date of the little one we lost has loved me so well in my grief and pain. If you, like me, find yourself plagued with guilt, at a loss for what to do to comfort your sister, or wondering how to share the news of life within you as she grieves the loss of hers, perhaps these suggestions, gleaned from my experience on both sides, may be of help. 

Let Yourself Off the Hook

You are not sovereign over life. God alone opens the womb and he alone numbers our days. You did not bless yourself with the gift of children, and being faithful to carry them to term and care for them is not a sinful stumbling block, its an act of obedience.  You are also not responsible for the loss of your sister. It was an effect of the fall allowed by God for purposes we may never understand. But we can have confidence as we see his authority over history that God knows what he's doing. Throughout scripture, fertility is so mysterious (barren women conceive in old age, the savior of the world is born to a virgin…), but what is clear is that God is sovereign over the womb, that he works all things together for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose, and that nothing happens apart from his loving and watchful eye. 

While it is true that in bearing one another's burdens we fulfill the law of Christ, weeping with those who weep does not require that we feel guilt over what we have been given in light of what they have not received. God is sovereign over the events of both of your lives, and will use you both in the life of the other. You can trust him. Let yourself off the hook as you ascribe to him the sovereignty, power, and might he possesses.

Don’t Add to Her Burden

The woman struggling with infertility or mourning the loss of life in the womb is walking through true grief. While it may very well be true that the flourishing of your family is a difficult thing for her to behold because it highlights her own lack, you do not need to be forgiven. Do not place upon your sister the burden of helping you feel at peace with the situation. Don’t cause her to feel like she needs to tell you that "it's okay" or that she's not mad at you. You are responsible for your own faithfulness to weep with her, not enforcing the commandment to rejoice with you upon her. Should she celebrate you, however, let her. Don't make it weird. Just communicate your gratitude for her role in the life of your family.

My own discomfort with my grieving sister caused me to want to rush her grief. I wanted her to be better and feel better so that things wouldn't be so awkward or feel so sad. This led to me saying unintentionally dismissive and belittling things. You don't need to burden her with a timeline that you're comfortable with for her grief. Your role is to support, encourage, and pray for her for as long as this season may last. Her grief, however uncomfortable it may make you feel, is not sin. You can affirm her lamentation as biblical. You can agree with her in her outrage over death.

Accept the Role You're Allowed to Play

We don’t always get to play the role we long to play in the grief of others, and the reality is, the fact that you are a walking trigger for the pain and trauma of your sister may mean that you are not the best person to minister to her during this season. Ask permission before acting. Don't pretend to know what she would want. Give her the opportunity to tell you.

You also should not assume that you're the person she most wants to confide in and share with, even if you have been in the past. If she asks for space, send her a resource, then respect her wishes. Loving through non face to face actions like mailing a resource or sending flowers is a great way to communicate your availability without  placing pressure on her to respond.

Entrust her to the Lord

When you don’t feel the freedom or cannot figure out how to talk to your sister, you may be tempted to talk about her. Perhaps with the intention of seeking advice or the desire to feel more involved or closer to her, you may betray details of her story or add to the drama of the situation by making the perceived chasm between you feel even wider. But rather than talking about her or strategizing to fix her situation, a better course of action is to intercede for her, and to let her know you're doing so. Praying for her is the most powerful thing you can do to love and practically help her. God knows her intimately and is able to care for her perfectly, even when you find yourself at a complete loss.

A Final Word 

Nothing about this situation is simple, but refusing to take things personally or think too much about yourself are two of the best courses of action you can take. The truth of the gospel enables us to selflessly love others. I would encourage you to move beyond these words and ask your Father for wisdom on how to love your sister well. His word tells us that he is faithful provide it when we ask.

Originally written by Abbey Wedgeworth of Gentle Leading. Used with permission.

Five Ways Loose Ends Can Be A Blessing

Have you ever looked at the backside of an intricate tapestry or piece of weaving or embroidery and noticed how incredibly different it looks from the finished side? The backside is covered with knots and jumbled bits of thread, tangled and twisted bits of color with no rhyme or reason. Just looking at the back gives no clue to the front, the artists intent muddied amidst the greens and blues, scarlets and ambers, colorful yet utterly chaotic when viewed from the back.

Loose ends dominate the work.

But as soon as you turn the piece over, the artist’s intent is obvious, the picture clears, the jumbled colors make sense. No loose ends found anywhere, just a beautiful piece of work, woven by the artist’s hands, telling a captivating story and suddenly making complete sense.

I’m in a season where I feel like I’ve been staring at the backside of a tapestry forever. Everywhere I look, all I see are loose ends. So many ‘ifs’ and no certainty. I’m a planner by nature but it’s super hard to plan when you don’t know what you’re planning for!

Do you feel like that too?

• Questions loom.

• Deadlines extend.

• Deals fall through.

• Timelines implode.

• Plans go completely awry.

And the loose threads and loose ends hang there, their pretty greens and blues taunting your heart:

“You’re questions won’t ever be answered.”

“If they are answered, the answer will be no.”

“You’re spinning your wheels.”

“We’ll get back to you in a month.”

“Just be patient.”

Why is it so hard to wait, to be patient, to let the doors open on their own? Why is it so hard to trust?

I’m in a waiting season, waiting for my book to be published, waiting for major house renovations to be completed, waiting for business issues to come to an end. But so far, no sign of closure on any of them.

Everything feels stalled and life is one big holding pattern.

Why is it so hard to be patient? To wait for the doors to open on their own?

Why is it so hard to trust?

In the waiting lies the test. Learning to be patient with His timing is a mark of maturity, a mark of character. It goes against human nature to let God’s plan unfold and not try to hurry things up! It’s hard to remember He’s actually more concerned about our future than we are. He see’s everything, the end from the beginning. But us? We see through a glass, darkly.

Here’s the thing, God is just as concerned for our lives as we are and in fact, He’s way ahead of us, working in our future, taking care of details we haven’t even thought about. He’s getting everything lined up for the next season. Heaven is absolutely buzzing on your behalf my friend!

Thankfully, I’m learning a lot as I wait for issues to resolve. I’m hopeful the five things I’m learning will help you too.

1. God has a plan. He alone knows the end from the beginning and He alone knows exactly what we need right now. (Clearly I need to grow a little more patient!)

2. His plan has a purpose. I want to think it’s all about me but it’s so not. His plans go far beyond my little life. God looks at the generations ahead, deep into the coming decades and He’s weaving a masterpiece we can’t even begin to understand.

3. Whatever His purpose is, it’s good. Romans 11:34 reminds us, “For who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has become His counselor?” I can’t know His reasons but I can know this: Romans 8:28: “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” I can rest in this truth whether my life turns out the way I’d hoped or not! All the threads are going to make sense when the time comes for me to turn the tapestry over and see it from His perspective.

4. The waiting is the big tell. Do I love God for who He is or for what He can give me? Until we get this one right, He might just let us keep waiting.

1. He’s letting me grow in maturity. I can possess every gift of the Spirit but until I’m producing the fruit of the Spirit, I’m not yet mature. Hebrews 6:1 says, “Let us go on to maturity.” Indeed.

If your life is filled with loose ends and unanswered questions, know there’s a reason. Trust His goodness as you walk through this season. I know the day will come when it will all make sense, when you hold the tapestry in your hands, turn it over and say, “Oh, how beautiful! I’m so glad I waited. Now it all makes sense!”

Friend, leave it to Him. He’s weaving something beautiful in your life even if all you can see is a jumble of threads, colors and knots. One day you’ll get to see it from His perspective and you will rejoice that you trusted in Him and not the loose ends!

Kate Battistelli is the author of Growing Great Kids-Partner with God to Cultivate His Purpose in Your Child’s Life, published by Charisma House. Her newest book, The God Dare, published by Barbour Books, will release in 2019. She’s mom to GRAMMY award-winning artist Francesca Battistelli and Mimi to her 4 children. She’s been married to her best friend Mike for 35 years and lives just outside of Nashville. Kate loves to cook and blogs about food and faith at www.KateBattistelli.com You can follow her on Instagram, Pinterest, Twitter, and Facebook.