A Mother's Tears

It was November 17, 2008. The number 17 was a lucky number in my family, full of significance - having claimed birthdays, anniversaries, and soccer and basketball jerseys. I was still a week from my due date, but I just KNEW Jack would make his first official appearance on the 17th. Sure enough, my contractions began that evening and my precious first born son was born 28 hours later. The first time I held him in my arms, I felt so blessed, so thankful, so overjoyed, so tired. But it wasn't until I was being wheeled into my recovery room, baby boy wrapped in blue nestled in my arms, onlookers in the hallway peeking into his blanket as they passed us by, that I shed my first tears as a mother. They were proud tears. Jack hadn't done anything but look at me - and I was so so proud of him.

I am a sap. (Thanks, Mom, for that trait.) I still can't get through the beginning or end of Finding Nemo without bawling my eyes out. Folgers commercials have a way of tugging at my heartstrings - and I don't even like coffee!!! When I was pregnant, Wheel of Fortune even had a way of opening the flood gates. It's ridiculous, people. I would like to interject here that I am an emotionally stable person, however, I am extremely empathetic - which is a blessing and a curse all at the same time. If I ever thought I was sappy before I had kids, however, I had no clue what I was talking about.

If I bottled all of my tears over the past five years of being a mother, I'd have enough salt water stored up to fill an Olympic size pool. Thankfully, tears stem from lots of different places, and many of these tears have been shed in pure joy. Jack and Gabe's first laughs... and their first steps. The first time each of my boys said "I wuv you, Mommy." My boys' budding sense of humor, each with their own ability to make me laugh until I cry. And then, when one of my boys crawls into my lap at the end of a hard day, just to snuggle. Tears of joy.

Then there are the moments I waited for... watching my children explore new things, knowing the joy and thrill each new discovery would bring. The initial run - no sprint - from our beach house to the brink of the vast ocean, and the first seconds of the waves washing over tiny toes that just can't decide where to dig into first, the water or the wet sand. The moment the castle at the Magic Kingdom came into view, as we meandered through a crowd of eager onlookers... the heavy feeling of anticipation lifted, tears of excitement overflowing.

Sometimes God uses my kids in mighty ways to minister to me. When Gabe (age 2) remembers to extend his hands at the dinner table, reminding us to bless our food. When Jack remembers to pray at bedtime for a family member or a friend who is sick or hurting. When I see my tenderhearted boys reach out to a friend in need on the playground, or approach someone who appears to be sad and alone, and big smiles replace sullen faces. These tears are filled with blessing... they are a gift.

There are also tears shed in pain, fear and anxiety (and there are oh so many of those.) When my 3 month old Gabriel was fitted for his shaping helmet, his tiny little head wrapped tightly in a mold while I held his squirming body and listened to his cries. The night I carried my 4 year old into the ER at midnight because he woke up unable to breath. Losing a child in the middle of the largest theme park in the country (the longest six minutes EVER). Every day of the journey of Jack's testing for autism. And just last week, I sat in the lobby, waiting to hear the screams of my child echo through the dentist's office as his cavities were filled. Tears of fear and anxiety are the worst.

However, through all of this, my tears were never shed alone. When I was filled with awe and wonder over the little miracle I was holding in my arms for the first time, God was there too, admiring the sweet boy He knit together in my womb (Ps. 139:13). As I enjoy the special moments with my children as they experience something new for the first time, God is there too, bearing fruit in my life that stems from the Spirit (Gal. 5:22). As I sit back and observe my children and their tenderness towards others, God is there too, reminding me that "whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 18:4). And when I sow tears in fear and anxiety, God is there too, telling me AND my child not to fear, for He is with us, He has called us by name, and we belong to Him (Isa. 43:1).

As a mother, it is hard to turn off the fear and worry. I am so thankful for a God who doesn't need my strength to carry on - He goes about His work, supplying what I need when I need it. I wonder what He saw as He looked down on me in the waiting room at the dentist's office last week. A mother, wrought with anxiety, feeling like she was going to puke at the thought of her child never speaking to her again after such a traumatic experience of having his teeth drilled... But, at the same time, He was also looking down over my Jack, who was as happy as a clam in the dentist's chair, the only issue he was facing was whether he was going to have time to play with the pet chinchilla when he was done. I had prayed for peace for Jack - so had many others - but I had forgotten to pray for myself. When the dentist's assistant came out and told me that Jack was doing great, I started crying anyways (the flood gates were already open, I was just waiting for the cue) but instead of tears of sadness for my boy, God blessed both Jack and I in that moment - giving Jack peace, and his momma relief. I am so blessed to know that my tears are never shed alone - in joy and in sorrow, in pain and in fear - God is with me, catching each tear as it falls into His hand.

Psalm 126:5-6 tells us, "Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him." God planted these children, like seeds, in my life... and I am watering these precious seeds with my tears. Every moment, whether a joyous one or a hardship, brings about the opportunity to love my children and teach them about their Heavenly Father who loves them even more.

When I was pregnant with Jack Ryan, I studied the Psalms of Ascent in a Bible Study. I came across Psalm 127, and it became my prayer for all of my future children. "Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one's youth" (v.3-4). I decided I would raise my children to be arrows in the hands of the Lord... mighty warriors for Him. Arrows need sharpening. My tears are just one example of what that sharpening looks like. Some teaching moments are more difficult than others. Some moments leave me feeling hurt. Other moments are harder on my boys. But God is our Healer, and he reminds us in Psalm 126 that as we continue to sow these seeds, we will return with songs of joy and a bountiful harvest.

The name of my second son, Gabriel Arrow, is a steady reminder of the commitment I made to God to raise my children in a manner which will strengthen them to be leaders among their peers... strong mighty men ready for the Lord's work. Every day is a new page in my story, full of life lessons, joys and hardships. But God has reminded me that its not just my story that I'm responsible for. As Jack and Gabe's mother, I am instrumental in helping them write their own stories - every step of the way, by caring for and watering my precious seeds... with tears and all.