Sometimes a Broken Heart Is Just What God Gives Us

What does it mean to be a "mom?" I'm still learning. Though the tangibles seem to change with time, the intangibles appear to remain the same. It's just that the intangibles, at least for me, have been a little more difficult to maintain. For instance, when my first child was born, I knew there'd be diapers and feedings and lots of sleepless nights. I had no idea just how many and how difficult some of those days would be. I knew that, in spite of all of that, I would love this precious gift the best way I knew how. I'd play and kiss booboos and surround him with love and teach him everything I could so he could grow up with every advantage possible. A bond was formed from the moment I knew he was, and I could actually feel terror rising up within me when I thought of anything that might harm him.

But children grow up, and the tangibles change. Feedings morphed into an adequate supply of chicken nuggets; booboos were exchanged for rides to work. I'd still tell him I loved him and I tried to teach him, but he was developing his own ideas, and the things I knew no longer appeared relevant to him. The terror I now felt came from the feeling he was harming himself. And I tendered my resignation.

I've been studying the Book of Jonah. God called Jonah to be a prophet to the people of Nineveh, a desperately wicked people. Jonah knew of their wickedness and God's mercy. Why try to reform people that haven't done a thing to help themselves? Why have people like that -- people who should be punished for their recidivism and wantonness -- in "our" club? Why keep hoping for people who have proven themselves hopeless? Jonah tendered his resignation.

One of the intangibles of motherhood -- of parenthood, is having a broken heart for your child. When my children were small, I was not a Christ follower. I believed He existed, but I only talked to Him when I was really in a jam. I lived in such a way that those things which caused me pain or conflict, I extinguished or disregarded. I did not build healthy relationships -- with anyone, and my children suffered for that. By the time my children were well into their teen years, I was seeking Jesus, but quite a bit of damage had been done, and the hurt was deep on both sides. As I began to mature in Christ, I asked forgiveness and tried to approach our relationship in a new and more Christlike way. Some responded, some did not. When it came to the "did nots," my resignation still stood. I can't do anything about unforgiveness. I can't do anything about someone who blames me for everything. When does it stop being my fault, and they start taking responsibility for their own problems? I can't do anything about someone who won't help themselves. And my heart became hard. Praise God, I am still growing! The history of Jonah is showing me my resignation has never been accepted by the Lord. I was commissioned to have a broken heart -- and to pray -- for my children from the moment I became a mother. Their failures and foolishness may be painful for me to watch; I may even become so frustrated and discouraged by their lack of regard that I want to quit. Fractures in our relationship may prevent me from being a mom the way I was most comfortable -- sharing meals, conversations, hugs, gifts, attending church together -- but I CANNOT resign. And I cannot allow hardness in my heart. Like Jonah, I cannot stop being who God has called me to be until He says I can stop. That doesn't mean accepting responsibility for anything I did not do; it doesn't mean beating myself up for the things for which I have sought forgiveness (God doesn't want unforgiveness in my heart either). But, that means allowing my heart to be broken for the things that break my Savior's heart, and praying. For them. Without ceasing.