Motherhood is hard work. I can’t say it more plainly than that. Of course there are physical needs to be met, but beyond that, the thing I find most “weighty” is the sense of responsibility I feel as a mother who wants nothing as much as to raise up children who will be faithful followers of Jesus in this dark world. I instruct, correct, encourage, train, discipline, fail, apologize…and repeat. I catch myself wondering, “Is it all for naught? Will they ever get it?” If I’m not careful, I become so serious that I seriously miss out on the blessing and joy that is right in front of me. Allow me to explain.
Among other ways our lives have changed this past year, we made the decision to begin homeschooling our three daughters. As part of our curriculum on U.S. history, we did a unit on the California gold rush, which I found fascinating.
In contrast to more than 200 years of basically slow and steady population spread from east to west, the discovery of gold at Sutter’s Mill in Coloma, California in 1848 pulled nearly 300,000 people (a large number at the time) to our western shores in a mere seven years. Stories indicate that most people did not gain the riches they sought. However, the occasional discovery of a small nugget of gold was enough to fan the flames of hope and push them onward, tirelessly investing their lives in feverish pursuit of the mother lode (the principal vein or source of deposits).
Parenthood feels a lot like mining for gold.…a little nugget of hope here or there.
Along another vein, when Andrew and I moved to northern Ohio last year (another item on our list of changes), one of the first things we noticed was how many maple trees were on our property. I commented that we could have quite a little operation if only I had a sugar shack. Before I knew it, Andrew had cleared a small out building, put in a wood burner, purchased a few food-grade buckets, a couple stainless steel pans, some taps and tubing, and we were in business!
As you likely know, the ratio of gallons of sap to syrup is approximately 40-to-1. For hobbyists like ourselves, we found the process to be extremely time-consuming and labor intensive. But when we tasted the sticky sweetness that came as a result, we deemed the effort to be well worth it. The meagre fruits of our labor were the inspiration we needed to keep on going! We couldn’t bear to waste an ounce of sap, knowing the potential goodness it contained. Perhaps a poor comparison, but I imagined we were like the fortune-seekers who went to California. We were in pursuit of liquid gold, mining in our own backyard for nature’s hidden treasure.
So, how do the gold rush and maple syrup encourage me as a mother? Sometimes parenthood feels a lot like mining for gold. We spend hours praying over our children, instructing, disciplining, training them up in the way they should go…and our efforts are rewarded with what seems like minimal payoff – a little nugget of hope here or there. The thing is, those little nuggets are gold, too. We set our sights on striking the mother lode (creating obedient/polite/smart/godly/perfect kids), when motherhood is really more of a slow boil. The syrup in a half pint is to be savored because you know the work that went into it. Those moments of sweetness when your child says, “Thanks for supper,” “I’m sorry,” “Will you pray for my ouchy?” or you ask for help in the kitchen and someone joyfully volunteers, or when they are outside your bedroom door way too early and you overhear someone say, “Shh! Don’t wake up Mommy,” need to be valued as fine gold. They are evidence of deposits in their hearts from the Principal Source. They may be just the glimpse of hope we need to ease the weight of our mother load.
