A Season of Silence
I’ve found myself in the midst of a season of silence, of being overwhelmed. Sometimes, motherhood just isn't easy. And by sometimes, I mean its difficult in some ways, all the time. In some way, each season of motherhood will be hard. And this season for me has been hard, and with nothing to blame it on. No postpartum depression, no newborn sleep deprivation, no tiny apartment.
The postpartum depression became a memory, but instead gave way to something almost harder to face: that motherhood is just hard. That the days are just overwhelming, that I’m irritable and quick to anger, that I’m a perfectionist who has a hard time letting go.
But what they say is true - motherhood is sanctifying. It is refining me, if I choose to see it that way. And when we’re in the midst of the tantrums and diapers and messy floors and endless laundry, it is so much easier to want to be validated in how much this season sucks. But I’m telling you, that attitude is from the Enemy.
That is the Enemy wanting you to rest in the difficult. That is the Enemy manipulating you to believe that this is the rest of your story. That is the Enemy taking your focus off hope. That is the Enemy distracting you from the calling God has put upon your life. That is the Enemy tricking you into thinking that this battle is yours to carry.
And to all of that, and every single lie the Enemy is whispering or yelling to us mothers during this sanctifying season - I say get behind me, Satan.
And while there is truth in how difficult this season can be, there is relief that these are merely human concerns. That they are battles and burdens that have been fought for and conquered for us already. That there is strength and hope for us. That we don't have to let these overwhelming days overcome our heart, for Christ has overcome the world. For me, for you - He overcame.
But we must not be silent. We must not be silent or accepting or complacent during this hard, hard season. We must not let our days end with the difficulty. We must rebuke it all, even if it means saying it a million times a day; get behind me, Satan!
I’m guilty of falling silent; I’m guilty of withdrawing and closing up in my busyness. I have this deep fear, this voice that says “No one wants to hear what you have to say. You try too hard. You’re not good enough.” And so I don't write. I don't take pictures. I become afraid to share. I don’t invite people over, because my house is too messy - because my life is too messy.
But I’m reminded to rebuke those lies. God gave me a desire to write, and so I write, regardless of who reads along. Because when I write, I feel like myself, like the woman God created me to be, rather than being lost in my roles. I invite people in, because we’re not meant to do this journey of motherhood alone. And I choose to die to my flesh, to my anxiety, and instead humbly allow this season to sanctify me.
Because God has Kingdom work set apart of each of us, and this season of motherhood is a part of it. And these human concerns are not mine, and they are not of God. So get behind me Satan, I’ve got work to do.