Recently a new insta friend asked me to do a write up about motherhood and hospitality for a project she was working on. I thought I would also share it here.
I am many things. I am most importantly a believer in Christ and am wholly dependent on Him for the breath I breathe and every hour of my life. But two other primary pieces of my identity are a wife and mother. I have a hilarious and vibrant husband of ten years and three daughters who I really do fall more in love with every day. And lately Ive been thinking alot about my role as a mother. What it means to be a mother in general, and then what it means specifically for me; in my home and to my family.
Recently we have been having a difficult time with school. We homeschool so things are fairly unchanged in this season in regards to education. And lately its just been like walking through mud, deep mud, (with birds flying overhead squawking and dropping debris). My eldest has had the worst attitude in regards to her perceived failures. And my middle daughter has been so quick to tears. And the baby is just a hot, distracting, mess most of the time (but Lordy she is the cutest creature I’ve ever encountered). And I have been so hard on all of them, so quick to lose my patience, so likely to blame and accuse and come down on them with all the fury I can muster. But recently a conversation with a blunt but incredibly gracious friend knocked me clean out and reminded me of a very important reality; its not their fault if the day feels like a failure…its mine.
Because ultimately, I am the atmosphere in our home. It’s not my 6.5 year old whose attitude sabotages our school morning. Its not the 4 year old’s lack of self control that sets our whole family up for failure. It’s certainly not the 1.5 year old who is responsible for the atmosphere in our home. Do they all contribute, absolutely (and sometimes abundantly so). But do they set the barometer and are the ultimately responsible? No. That’s me. Thats all on me.
And no, I don’t think I am responsible for every negative thing that happens in our home. And don’t worry, I am not getting down on myself or feeling unduly discouraged. God is gracious, and He really does gently teach me these things, even as He is already providing a way out from under the weight of them. But I am taking a hard look at the reality that hospitality is not just about how i make other people feel in our home. Hospitality is not about having the right design that is pleasing aesthetically and uses the space well. Its not about making the meals and hosting the events. Its not even really about physical space. Its about atmosphere. Its about being a place, myself, that my children want to come. A place they want to dwell in and linger in and really live in. A place my husband can feel at rest. An inviting atmosphere.
This task might seem crushing and even anxiety inducing. But the beauty about all of it is that when I am actually leaning into the strength of my savior, being this atmosphere is the most restful and satisfying way I can live. I can’t be this atmosphere unless I am first at rest in the Heavenly atmosphere provided to me by fellowship with the Holy Spirit; the fruit of His constant dwelling in me. What a grace of God isn’t it? That only in walking in deep fellowship with Him can I actually live in the freedom for which He rescued me from my sin? The freedom to welcome my children in day after exhausting day. The freedom to repent to them, and ultimately to God, trusting that I have already been forgiven and utterly restored. Trusting that they will seek reconciliation with me, and with each other, because they have watched me repent so very often.
Im so thankful for each day with mercies new and the strength to welcome my family in again.
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