Escaping Motherhood

Motherhood is nothing short of a roller coaster of emotions. One moment on a high and the next plummeting so low I wish I could escape it all if only for an hour. And I do. I make it to lunch knowing relief is coming soon. I put the baby down for their afternoon nap and the preschooler settled in their room for “quiet time”. Sigh, sweet relief! I’m banking on at least one golden hour of sweet bliss alone. I lounge back in the big comfy chair, steaming cup of coffee in hand, complete silence enveloping me and then whip out my phone for a well-deserved break—the well-intentioned escape from reality. I spend that one hour of life currency scrolling through social media because it’s relaxing. And then the cry rings through the monitor signaling the end of my break, and I don’t feel rejuvenated. I feel more empty, more depleted. My heart feels heavier, not lighter. I don’t feel energized, but drained. A bit angry too because I can’t even remember exactly what I spent that whole hour on. And yet, I don’t learn my lesson. Day after day, with great anticipation I look forward to my phone date. Even now, as I sit here typing this all out, I’m really good at rationalizing it. Everyone does it. It’s not really that big of a deal. I’m catching up on my friend’s lives!

 I’m really good at running away from and numbing my own heart. It’s much easier than actually facing it because emotions are confusing and fickle. They can’t be trusted, so I avoid them. But God created them for a reason. He knew they would serve as the gage in my soul indicating “hey!! you’re nearing empty, run to the Father!” And yet, I fall into the trap that what I really need is a “break”, a mind numbing escape. The only truly satisfying rest comes from the comfort of Jesus. His truth brings life to my weariness. I don’t need a break from my kids, I need an encounter with Jesus. 

Actually, this past week I’ve felt so emotional and felt like crying for no apparent reason and shamed myself for feeling that way, when maybe I just needed to open the plug and let myself cry before the Father. Even when I can’t figure out the entangled mess that is my heart, He does and He cares deeply. Maybe He knew I just needed a good cry. Not an instagram scrolling therapy session. Not an online shopping spree. Just permission to let go and feel the gamut of emotions with Him instead of stuffing them because they aren’t “good”. He wants all of me—my imperfections, my doubts, my anger, my disappointments, my fears, all of it!

 So I’m not holding back, I’ve cracked open the hard shell of my heart, letting the tears pour out as beautiful incense onto the feet of Jesus. I don’t want a heart that compartmentalizes only allowing Jesus to see bits and pieces. I want Him to behold all of my heart, even when I feel weary and bone dry from changing diapers or disciplining, or cooking dinner and doing the laundry, or wondering if I’m even doing this whole parenting gig ok. When I invite Him into my heart, into the current state of my emotions, He speaks life and truth into me. He knows exactly what I need to be comforted and rejuvenated, and He gives it to me freely and unrestrained. But I just have to come. So, do I still scroll on my phone? If I’m honest, yeah I do, but I’m trying to get better at discerning the motivation. When I feel myself wanting to escape or numb out, I check into my soul-gage and often find that I need to fuel up on the truth. Leaning into Jesus—emotions and all—instead of leaning into the world, that’s whats going to keep my heart connected and truly alive.