The alarm rang waking me from my slumber. I turned over and
silenced it then sighed. It was Mother’s Day. I now had four little boys who
were under my care. I smiled at the privilege of being called their mom. As I
sat up and stretched, my mind filled with curious thought of what my husband
had planned in order to celebrate me. Maybe flowers? Chocolates? A hot
breakfast? I knew he would be heading to work soon—that’s the life of a firefighter—and
I had already psyched myself up for taking four little boys to church on my
own on Mother’s day. But I just knew he probably had done something to make me
feel special.
A Disappointing Surprise
I put on my house shoes and padded to the kitchen just as I
heard the garage door close. I glanced around. Everything looked fairly normal.
Standing on my tiptoes, I peered across the room to the dining room table.
Nothing. I heard the rumble of my husband’s truck as he pulled out, and my
heart fell to my stomach. No flowers. No chocolates. Nothing even set out for
breakfast. To top it all off, he hadn’t even kissed me before he left or wished
me happy Mother’s Day. Heat rose in my face as anger and great disappointment
filled my chest. Forget it, I didn’t care anyway (or at least I tried to
convince myself of such.) Time to be strong and get my boys ready for church!
Over the next hour, I bathed, fed, dressed and readied four
boys (one still being a nursing infant) and myself for church. We were ready to
go, and I glanced at the clock. I still had ten minutes. Fantastic! I realized
I needed a moment to reset from the stress and disappointment of the morning,
so I set the boys up with a movie and retreated to my room.
A Moment to Reset
As I quieted my heart, I breathed deeply. I let my mind roam
over what my expectations had been for the day. I work so hard all the time.
Wasn’t Mother’s Day supposed to be a day to celebrate me? It was rare to hear
gratitude throughout the year. My oldest was only five; he wasn’t aware of the
sacrifice of motherhood, but didn’t I deserve at least some acknowledgement
from my husband on today of all days? I followed David’s pattern from the
Psalms “Pour out your heart to him, God is a refuge for us” (Psalm 62:8) and
allowed my heart and my eyes to leak all the emotions of the morning. As I
expressed my heart to my loving Jesus, He gently put His finger on a soft spot
and pointed out a dangerous line that I was toeing.
It was Mother’s Day. It was also a Sunday. I was getting
myself and my kids ready to head to church – to worship the God of the Universe
with fellow believers. And here I was, sulking that I had not received
accolades for my position as a mother. How sacrilegious!
Idolatries in My Past
In the past, God had used various circumstances, speakers,
or events to point out areas of idolatry in my life. Now, this didn’t look like
the “household gods” described in the old testament. I hadn’t created a shrine
for an idol and practiced worship in a formal sense. However, there had been
areas of my life where I would find my comfort in things or activities rather
than in God. For instance, I’ve always struggled with dealing with strong
emotions, so I found it distracting and satisfying to grab a big bowl of ice
cream or indulge in binge watching a favorite show or losing myself in a good
novel. None of these things are wrong in themselves, but none of these things
could fill or heal my heart the way Jesus could. And when I would run to these
things first, I was putting them in the place of God. I was worshiping ice
cream for how it made me feel. I was worshiping TV shows for how they helped me
relax. I was worshiping novels for how they helped me escape. As Jesus had
gently made me aware of these things in the past, I was able to work through
confession and surrender and walk in new ways of seeking Him first to fill
those emotional needs when I was struggling.
A Step Further: and not in a Good Direction
This time it was different. This time, I had taken a step
further. I wasn’t worshiping some item or idea. I wanted to be the one my
husband and sons were worshiping! My heart broke at the truth of what God was
showing me. The reason I was so angry about no flowers, no chocolates, no
breakfast, no “Happy Mother’s Day” was because I wanted to be the little “g”
god in my family’s lives.
Yet He Delights in Me!
In those last few moments before I ushered my sons out the
door to church, I got down on my knees and confessed my pride, my arrogance,
and my idolatry against my King. I was so grateful for His gentle conviction
and began to praise him for who he was rather than claiming praise for what I
had done. And Jesus spoke back to my heart: Hannah,
I will never worship you, just as no one else should. But I want you to know
that I delight in you, even when no one else does. (Zephaniah 3:17) At that
moment, the chocolates and the flowers and the accolades no longer mattered.
The King of the universe found delight in me!
Worshipping Him
I loaded the boys up and headed to church with a renewed
joy. The morning wasn’t perfect. It was raining. I had three of my four boys
splashing in puddles as we walked in the door. The infant cried through parts
of Sunday school and church, getting the boys in the car was challenging, no
one made me lunch, I didn’t get a nap, and my boys still didn’t realize it was
Mother’s Day. But this Sunday truly was a delightful Mother’s day – because I
chose to worship the God who made me a mother, and I realized that he delighted
in me and my motherhood. And that’s what really mattered!
(By the way, the following day when my husband
got off shift, he did wish me “Happy Mother’s Day” and bought me some flowers
too!)
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