When Mommy Doesn't Know: Resting in God's Omniscience

"O Lord, you have searched me and known me!"

It’s a beautiful summer day. Three of my children are playing outside in the yard, but not my oldest. He’s sitting on the sofa, trying not to throw up—a place he has been too many times this summer. He has no fever, no cough, and no congestion. He just has a tummy ache that keeps coming back. There are good days and weeks when he feels fine, and then there are the long days and restless bedtime tummy aches. Even as I type, we’re still searching for answers.

He doesn’t ask why this is happening, but anxiety comes into his eyes, especially at night. We’ve seen specialists and we still don’t know. The uncertainty takes its toll. As I tuck him into bed, I try to soothe away the fears. This is probably just something small, something normal, something treatable. It will be okay. He is okay. That’s what mommy says, thinks, and hopes. But the fact is, I don’t know—and it’s only the tip of the iceberg of what I don’t know right now.

“How long will this pandemic last?” my kids ask. “When will the history museum open again? When can we stop wearing these masks? When will life get back to normal? When can we go inside the condo to visit great-grandma?” All I can answer is, “I don’t know.” I wish I did, but at this moment, God’s good purposes have placed me in a state of ignorance.

Typically I like to think I know what is going on with my kids, with current issues, with politics. Staying informed is what a responsible parent and citizen does, right? But increasingly I have had to check out of social media, news, talk radio, etc., because instead of being informed, I was being tossed about on a stormy sea of speculation. Everyone wants to know what is going on and what is going to happen. However, we don’t know, and instead of just saying we don’t know, we start to guess at the future. We vacillate between man-made assurances and man-made nightmares, failing to remember that both are merely man-made by human “experts.” At the end of the day, what is going to rescue my heart from the anxiety of my ignorance isn’t the knowledge of man, but the knowledge of God.

When questions come that I can’t answer, my children and I can take comfort in the truth that God knows. He knows. It’s not just that God is all-powerful, that He is the ruler of the universe, and that He can do all things. He is also the Lord of history, King over time, the Beginning and the End. There is nothing that He doesn’t know—from the workings of each cell in our bodies and the number of our days to the future decisions of kings and the outcomes of plagues. Consider these scriptures about the vast omniscience of God:

“[F]or I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose’” (Isaiah 46:9b-10). God knows all of history. No event is outside of His knowledge.

“Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure” (Psalm 147:5). God’s knowledge is without limit. He doesn’t run out of memory or get confused.

“Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand and marked off the heavens with a span, enclosed the dust of the earth in a measure and weighed the mountains in scales and the hills in a balance?” (Isaiah 40:12). God knows every aspect of our world and universe—from how many gallons of water fill our oceans to the name of every star in the heavens (Psalm 147:4).

“Still Pharaoh's heart was hardened, and he would not listen to them, as the LORD had said” (Exodus 7:13). The decisions of kings are known by God before one of them is decreed. There is no announcement made by any administration which takes Him by surprise, nor is there any coup d’état that takes Him unawares (see Daniel 7-8).

“The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord” (Proverbs 16:33). How many times have you played Yahtzee or Candyland or War? You didn’t know who would win—but the Lord ordained every outcome of every roll of the dice, every card drawn or played, before time.

“And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel—and God knew” (Exodus 2:24-25). The Lord knows the suffering of His people. He is not oblivious to our pain, but is attentive to and acquainted with our every grief.

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you” (Jeremiah 1:5a). Each person who ever has, is, or will live, has been known fully by God forever.

“For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. […] My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth” (Psalm 139:13, 15). He knows each cell in our body, how each of our parts has been made and works.

“But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore” (Matthew 10:30-31a). Few of us think to know something as trifling and changeable as the number of hairs on our head. But God knows. Even though the number changes with a stroke of a brush or a gust of wind, His knowledge of us is that complete, perfect, and current. How much more does He pay attention to every big and important aspect of our bodies and lives?

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them” (Psalm 139:16). Before time, the events of each day of our lives are known by God—including our last day.

“[H]e knows the secrets of the heart” (Psalm 44:21b). There is nothing hidden from our God—neither unspoken words and thoughts (Psalm 139:1-4) nor secret deeds. All people and their inmost thoughts are known to Him (John 2:24).

“As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:13-14). He not only knows when we are formed and how, but He knows that we are weak. He remembers we are helpless and in need of His sustaining grace.

About a month ago, I lamented to a friend that my girls had not enjoyed playtime with another girl since the shutdown in March. All the friends willing to play this summer have been boys—nice boys, but boys. Instead of praying about it, I tried to think of moms I could reach out to, but life got busy before I could act on my list.

A couple days later, we noticed a moving van and some bikes in the driveway two doors away from our house. Someone new was moving in, with kids. A few days later, a new face appeared at the edge of our yard as my kids were playing on the swing set. SHE was looking for someone to play with. She was the same age as my oldest child. Now, multiple times a week, she is joining in the adventures and escapades of my kids in the backyard. In a summer of COVID, my girls were given a new girl to play and laugh with.

I didn’t pray for her to come. The prayer had never formed in my mind, let alone sat on my tongue. Still, the Lord knew my desire:

O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. Psalm 139:1-4

Worried? Anxious? Feeling the uncertainty of these times? Rest, friend: the Lord knows. He knows the outcome of 2020—from COVID to the presidential election. He knows the balance of your bank account, the cells of your body, and the yearnings of your heart. He knows your weaknesses and your future—and what grace you will need for the next minute. He even knows why my son keeps throwing up. There are some bits of knowledge He may never reveal to us, but that will be the choice of His perfect and loving wisdom, not due to any deficit of His understanding. Other things He will make clear in time. In either case, we may rest in the fact that all things are known to Him. That He is God—omniscient, sovereign, wise, and loving—is the most important thing we could ever know.

Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name! For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations. (Psalm 100:3-5)

Talk to Yourself, Mama

Why are you cast down, O my soul?

“How long can it take a four-year-old to learn he needs to stop playing to go to the bathroom?” “What do they think this is—24 hour room service?! They know where the cheese sticks are. They can get them for themselves.” “Tape, tape, tape! Everywhere there is tape—except when mommy needs it!”

Sound familiar? Unfortunately, these are some of the words coming out of my mouth in the middle of a long day. It may seem strange to have a post titled “Talk to Yourself, Mama.” Talking to yourself is a sure symptom of motherhood. We all know the signs of a mom in the middle of a hard season: the messy hair, the furrowed brow, the twitching face, and the one-sided conversations muttered under her breath. My children learned young there are times when mommy just talks.

But am I really talking to myself? So many times, those mutterings and snips of sarcasm are merely spelling out what is in my heart—a vocalization of emotions. There isn’t any critical thinking happening in the heat of the moment when I have one child standing in a puddle next to the toilet, another asking me the height of the Empire State Building, still two more fighting over a stick unicorn, and the phone in my pocket ringing. Too often in that moment, frustration and despair come spilling out in angry sentences. As Luke 6:45b says, “out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.”

Are these words pouring out of my frustrated heart doing me any good? In one sense it’s satisfying to vent, but it doesn’t solve the wet pants, the fighting children, or my mood. The words confirm that my brain is as crabby as my face, but they don’t move me on from there. They just let me listen to myself. Consider what Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones wrote about such mutterings:

Have you ever considered that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself? Take those thoughts that come to you the moment you wake up in the morning. You have not originated them but they are talking to you, they bring back the problems of yesterday, etc. Somebody is talking to you. Who is talking to you? Your self is talking to you. (Spiritual Depression)

My sinful, frustrated self is talking to me. What kind of words come from such a tongue? James 3:5b-6 says,

[…] the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great things. How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell.

My fiery words set myself, my children, my husband, even my friends ablaze. They belittle my calling as a wife and mom, tear down other people because of the inconvenience they cause in my agenda, and complain about God’s provision for me. Can any good ever come from such talk? No. How do I quench such a blaze? With more words.

When the words of my sinful self are stirring up a blaze of unrighteousness in my heart or pushing me deeper into despair, I must fight with more words. Rather than listening to a rant of angry, disparaging, discouraging words, I must talk to my self—even preach to my self—words of truth.

God graciously gives us models of what talking to ourselves should look like. The man of Psalm 42 is a man walking through deep discouragement. His tears are his food (v. 3). His enemies taunt him (v. 10). He feels forgotten by God (v. 9). His psalm does not ignore what his self is saying to him, but he does not let self have the last word. Rather, he speaks to his self, saying, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God” (v. 11). As Dr. Lloyd-Jones observes,

[…] this man’s treatment was this: instead of allowing this self to talk to him, he starts talking to himself. “Why art thou cast down, O my soul?” he asks. His soul has been depressing him, crushing him. So he stands up and says, “Self, listen for a moment, I will speak to you.” (Spiritual Depression)

Listen, self—I have something to say to you. And what do I say to myself?

First, I must talk to myself of God’s wise sovereignty over whatever circumstance I am in. Maybe it is a hard day at home. Maybe it is a painful day at the hospital. Whatever it is, Psalm 139:16b remains true: “in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was  none of them.” These plans, however mysterious to me, are designed for my good. “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11).

Second, I must talk to myself of God’s promises. “[F]ear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10).  Fear not, self—God is present to strengthen you. He will uphold you for another bathroom cleanup. He will strengthen you to do it with a gracious spirit: “And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work” (2 Corinthians 9:8). Even when you are weak, self, God’s power is still infinite to uphold and accomplish. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9b).

Finally, I must talk to myself of God’s Gospel. Self, I am sinful and cannot save myself. I need grace and forgiveness. Fortunately, there is One who has come and saved me: “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9). Self, if I get through this day, it will be by His grace. And if I fall into sin during it, there is yet hope for me.

“Rejoice not over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me. I will bear the indignation of the Lord because I have sinned against him, until he pleads my cause and executes judgment for me. He will bring me out to the light; I shall look upon his vindication” (Micah 7:8-9).

Mama, if you struggle like me with listening to your self, take heart and start talking. When angst and anger blaze in our hearts, may we learn to quench the fire on our tongues not with silence, but with His Word. May we learn to talk to ourselves with the Word which is able to carry us through toddler mishaps, sibling quarrels, endless errands and appointments, and much, much worse. Like the man of Psalm 42, let’s remind ourselves to hope in God. May we speak His Word to our souls, and in doing so find the grace to live through another day.

___________________________

Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones passages quoted by John Piper in “Spiritual Depression in the Psalms” (sermon June 1, 2008). Passages were originally published in Spiritual Depression: Its Causes and Its Cure (Lloyd-Jones, D. Martyn. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. Pp. 20-21.)

Rest, Mama, Rest

What my child needs most isn't a Pinterest-perfect mom,
but a mom at rest.

Rest. How I long for rest, and yet it remains strangely elusive. Life right now is being a mom, wife, teacher, homemaker, housekeeper, cook, host, etc. While every one of these roles is a good gift, even a calling, it is rest I yearn for most. But if I dare to sit still, the world around me seems to collapse. How is a mom to sit at the feet of Jesus, like quiet Mary, and choose “the good portion” (Luke 10:42)? Jesus did say, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Perhaps the question we need to think through is: what kind of rest is Jesus speaking about?

It was a beautiful day, and we were worn to a thread. We had started another year of homeschool and transitioned to a new church, all the while continuing to spend late nights and early mornings trying to encourage and help friends walking through various struggles and medical trials. Always, there was the unrelenting reality of laundry to wash, meals to cook, messes to clean up—and a vacation to prepare for. Did I mention daddy was on a business trip? It was normal life and we were weary of it. Still, we were going to visit friends. Packing up kids and changes of clothes and picnic lunches was getting old, but I knew the effort would be worth it. We were going to my friend’s house, and she was just the encouragement I needed.

As kids played in the yard, my friend and I sat atop a trampoline and got caught up. Stress melted away. Ideas flowed, direction and vision returned, and laughter came. We inspected tomatoes as well as the fallen tree in her yard, and then fed eight hungry kids at the extra-long picnic table on their deck. Sawdust and kids flew as her husband cut up branches and boys hauled it to the wood stack, and then together worked to erect a “new” playset they had acquired. Tired and dirty, we packed up and went home—fully rested.

How? My friend’s life is as chaotic if not more demanding than my own, filled with boys, homeschooling, hosting, ministry, working—and then almost all the trees in her yard deciding to fall down one after another, sometimes on top of things. Outwardly, her life is not a picture of Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus. Sitting is rare. It’s been years since I’ve seen her eat lunch (apparently that happens while she is working on her computer during afternoon naptime). How can she not only seem rested, but give rest?

Because inwardly, she is at rest.

She still has bad days and can become discouraged (she would be quick to tell you), but the prevailing truth I have heard her preach to her own heart is “the Lord will provide.” A heart at rest is a heart that is trusts in the sufficiency and work of God. It looks at life and remembers that what He calls me to do, He will enable me to do in His grace and through His provision. His provision may not be what I envisioned or come when I expected it to, but it will come and it will be good.

In Psalm 127, we are reminded,

“Unless the Lord builds the house,

those who build it labor in vain.

Unless the Lord watches over the city,

the watchman stays awake in vain.

It is in vain that you rise up early

and go late to rest,

eating the bread of anxious toil;

for he gives to his beloved sleep.” (Psalm 127:1-2)

The Lord does provide for our rest, but our actual sleep is an outward evidence of a deeper truth. John Piper puts it this way:

I think the main point of these […] verses is: "Don't eat the bread of anxious toil." It means just the same thing Jesus meant when he said, "Don't be anxious about what you shall eat." When we grow up we must all work for our bread. And we can either work nervously, worrying about what men will think of us—and so eat the bread of anxious toil. Or we can work with serenity in our hearts, as serving Christ and not men—and so eat the bread of peace. God's will for his children, indeed the sign of whether we are children or not, is that we not eat the bread of anxious toil. […]

The great test of faith is to believe that when we can see only a bleak outcome to some situation and no good coming of it, yet the sovereign God can and will bring out of nowhere, as it were, a turn of events or attitudes that brings great blessing. And he can do it while we sleep!
(from “Don’t Eat the Bread of Anxious Toil,” July 28, 1980)

The rest we need most, that brings true refreshment and allows us to rest physically, is a heart at rest—a heart that has found its peace in the perfect salvation and sovereign wisdom of Christ.

Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; our God is merciful. The Lord preserves the simple; when I was brought low, he saved me. Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you. Psalm 116:5-7

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock. Isaiah 26:3-4

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30

I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. […] As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. John 15:5, 9

Mamas, our lives in this world will be work—but let’s fight to make sure that we work from a heart at rest in the work and provision of Christ. Let us not lead harried lives, restless, frustrated, and eating the bread of anxious toil as if the outcome depended solely on our diligence. Especially as we enter the holiday season and the temptation for worldly, Pinterest-perfect toil abounds, let us seek to rejoice in our Savior’s coming by resting in Him. May we have discernment to work at what matters most, not just what matters to our pride. For some of us (like me), this may mean having the humility to accept what is good—a home filled with creative children instead of a house that is photo-op ready. It may mean that during these busy years of young children, we buy gifts at Walmart instead of crafting them, skip sewing holiday dresses in favor of Goodwill bargain finds, and feast on pizza dished out on paper plates rather than ham served on China for Christmas Eve dinner. And that can all be good—especially if it means mama is at rest and available to enjoy what is most important. The Lord’s provision for me may not be for my life to look incredible by Facebook standards, but for my heart to learn to find satisfaction and joy in “God with us”—in every different season of life.

Mama, when the to-do list threatens to keep you awake, when you feel yourself unravel at the sight of what others can do, do not eat the bread of anxious toil. Look to the Lord. Surrender your expectations and pray for His provision. Trust His wise plan to sufficiently provide for each day, each moment, each task, the needed grace and strength to persevere in your calling. Work with hope. Work with heart as working for the Lord and not for man (Colossians 2:23-24).  And when you have done what you reasonably can, surrender that work and its outcome to His good pleasure—and rest in Him.

“Come, weary saints, though tired and weak

Hide away in the love of Jesus

Your strength will return by His quiet streams

Hide away in the love of Jesus

Come, wandering souls, and find your home
Hide away in the love of Jesus
He offers the rest that you yearn to know
Hide away in the love of Jesus”

—from “Hide Away In the Love of Jesus” by Steve and Vikki Cook

Pray, Mommy, Pray

It was 3:10 a.m.

Eighteen-month-old “Beatrix” (our middle child with big brown eyes) had been awake since 12:30 a.m. We had changed her, rocked her, and fed her almost a half-gallon of milk one bottle at a time; she refused to sleep. We left her in her crib; she cried for an hour. We took her into our bed; cuddles turned into identifying parental facial anatomy with pointy fingers. Desperate, I was doing the bedtime routine one more time. Beatrix was on my lap, bottle in mouth and precious bunny in hand, quiet as we rocked. Then she took her bottle out of her mouth, looked at me, and said one word. 

“Pray.”

It was easy to remember to pray over my children during pregnancy. In that situation, I realized my lack of control. Sure, I could eat, sleep, drink, exercise, and go to my check-ups, but I couldn’t will the child inside of me to live and grow. I was in a position of complete dependence on God as the Giver and Sustainer of all things. When the fears came, when stories of miscarriage were told, when I heard of complications, all I could do was pray. Then the baby was born, and I got busy.

Somehow, when baby comes out into the world where we can see and hold it, we tend to forget about prayer. When the baby fusses, we check off a list of possible causes. When baby gets sick, we stay awake all night to make sure they breathe. When baby won’t sleep, we get annoyed. When baby seems late to achieve a milestone, we call mommy friends for advice. So often in in our caring and doing, we forget the most important thing: prayer. Although a child outside the womb keeps us busier, the child’s change in location has not changed our limited abilities to keep the child alive. We are still completely dependent on God for each breath.

The good news: we serve a God who is happy to hear our prayers and to answer us (Psalm 34:15). Our prayers are not bothersome to Him. Rather, as the apostle Peter encourages us, we are to cast “all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7, emphasis added). He cares. As we seek to care for our families, we should do it in prayerful dependence on Him. And as we pray, we should be strengthened by remembering what this God we pray to is like... 

He is Creator. “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.” (Psalm 139:13-15)

He is wise. "Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure." (Psalm 147:5)

 He is mighty. "Ah, Lord God! It is you who have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and by your outstretched arm! Nothing is too hard for you." (Jeremiah 32:17)

He is provider. “Oh, fear the Lord, you his saints, for those who fear him have no lack! The young lions suffer want and hunger; but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.” (Psalm 34:9-10) “And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.” (1 Corinthians 9:8)

He is never-tiring. “Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.” (Isaiah 40:28-29)

He is sovereign. “Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” (Psalm 139:16)

He is compassionate. "As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust." (Psalm 103:13-14)

He is attentive. “[K]now that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him.” (Psalm 4:3)

He is a refuge. “On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.” (Psalm 62:7-8)

 

He is faithful. “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” (Philippians 1:6) 

After Beatrix finished her bottle, I prayed over her and put her in her crib—where she slept peacefully the rest of the night.

That night, God answered our prayers with sleep, but He didn’t always answer our prayers with sleep. Sometimes we were awake all night. Sometimes instead of sleep He sent helpers to get us through the next day, naps when we needed the sleep, or just strength beyond our strength to keep going when we didn’t think we could. His answers are not always what we ask for, but He always answers, and in ways that are good for us. 

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone?  Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent?  If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:7-11) 

Pray. When the days are good or the nights are hard, pray. When baby fusses or toddler asks one more question, pray. When you don’t know what to do, pray. Pray, mommy, pray.

“[D]o not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7)

Run, Mommy, Run!

"Run, Run; always run." - C. S. Lewis

In The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis, we find young Shasta engaged in a race across desert, forest, and mountains to escape from his master and to warn King Lune of Archenland that evil Prince Rabadash of Calormen is bringing war against him. If this were not enough, Shasta and his friends are chased by a lion—which he confronts, no weapon in hand, to save his companion Aravis. Just when Shasta thinks he has finally reached shelter and rest, he finds he is mistaken…

“Are—are—are you,” panted Shasta. “Are you King Lune of Archenland?”

The old man shook his head. “No,” he replied in a quiet voice, “I am the Hermit of the Southern March. And now, my son, waste no time on questions, but obey. This damsel is wounded. Your horses are spent. Rabadash is at this moment finding the ford over the Winding Arrow. If you run now, without a moment’s rest, you will still be in time to warn King Lune.”

Shasta’s heart fainted at these words for he felt he had no strength left. And he writhed inside at what seemed the cruelty and unfairness of the demand. He had not yet learned that if you do one good deed, your reward usually is to be set to do another and harder and better one. But all he said out loud was:

“Where is the King?”

The Hermit turned at pointed with his staff. “Look,” he said. “There is another gate, right opposite to the one you entered by. Open it and go straight ahead, over level or steep, over smooth or rough, over dry or wet. I know by my art that you will find Kind Lune straight ahead. But run, run; always run.”

Shasta nodded his head, ran to the northern gate and disappeared beyond it.

(Lewis, C.S. The Horse and His Boy. New York: HarperCollins, 1982. Pp. 145-146)

What do Shasta and mothers have in common? They are both weary but bid to keep running!

The marathon nature of motherhood becomes apparent immediately after the birth of a child. With an infant, every need seems instant and urgent. Run, mommy, run! The diaper is messy and leaking. The fingernails are too long. The pacifier is lost. A blanket is needed. Food, food, always more food! Whoops—too much food. Burp cloth, quick! New onesie needed now! Another outfit into the laundry and in need of stain treatment… But mommy, I need to be held now! Always “now”!

Motherhood is one of the most challenging jobs you could ever find. The hours are horrible and the monetary compensation absent. If you do rise above the baseline survival into motherly feats of creativity, you are likely to find that your children don’t just thank you, but demand more. As Lewis writes, “if you do one good deed, your reward usually is to be set to do another and harder and better one.”

So, how are we to keep on running?

First, keep on running by looking to Jesus. “[L]et us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:1b-2). When you are tempted to give up, look to Jesus. He was never a mother, but as a real Man He knows what it is to be weary. No one person as ever had so many demands put on him as Jesus did during His earthly ministry. Our Savior knows our burden.

Second, keep on running by trusting Jesus for grace. “God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work” (2 Corinthians 9:8b). Every diaper, every meal, every load of laundry—these are the works of motherhood. Done in the right attitude, they can be good works of love offered as worship. They may seem menial tasks, but they are the necessary tasks of caring for eternal souls wrapped in human flesh. When you are tempted to despair at the endless, soon-unraveled household chores, pray for help and trust there will be grace to face the days as they come. Our Savior knows our weakness and supplies our needs.

Third, keep on running by looking at the prize. “For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith” (Galatians 6:8-10). God is at work in the world in ways we cannot see or imagine. He is at work in our homes, in our ordinary days. Do not grow weary. Work with all your heart at the vocation of motherhood, for there is a harvest coming. Do good to your husband and to your children. Do not underestimate the impact of a joyful, Christ-like mother on your family or the world.

Most people have never heard of Sarah Edwards. She lived in the colonial New England, the wife of Puritan preacher Jonathan Edwards. She never published a book or spoke to an audience. Little is known about her except for letters she wrote to family and mentions of her in Jonathan’s journal. She was the mother of eleven children. That was the focus of her life and ministry until her death. 

In 1900, A.E. Winship tracked down the descendants of Jonathan and Sarah Edwards and what they had accomplished. This is what he found: “[W]hatever the family has done it has been ably and nobly… And much of the capacity and talent, intensity and character, of the more than 1,400 of the Edwards family is due to Mrs. Edwards.” This single marriage, this faithful mother and father, had produced:

“13 college presidents
65 professors
100 lawyers, and a dean of an outstanding law school
30 judges
66 physicians and the dean of a medical school
80 holders of public office:
three United States senators
mayors of three large cities
governors of three states
a Vice President of the United States
a controller of the United States Treasury

“Almost all the men had college degrees and many completed graduate work in a time when this was unusual. The women were repeatedly described as ‘great readers’ or ‘highly intelligent,’ although girls were not sent to college then. Members of the family wrote 135 books [...] They edited eighteen journals and periodicals. They entered the ministry in platoons and sent one hundred missionaries overseas, as well as stocking mission boards with lay trustees. One maverick married the daughter of a South Sea Island chieftain but even that branch reverted to type, and its son became a clergyman.

“As Winship put it: […]‘There is scarcely any great American industry that has not had one of this family among its chief promoters…. The family has cost the country nothing in pauperism, in crime, in hospital or asylum service; on the contrary, it represents its highest usefulness.’”

(Dodds, Elizabeth D. Marriage to a Difficult Man. Laurel: Audubon Press, 2003. Pp. 31-32)

Keep running. Look to Jesus. Pray and trust for grace. Pray and hope for the harvest ahead—that God will work in and through you beyond what you expect. Run, mommy, run! Your Savior beckons you on with His work.