A Mother Who Knows Nothing

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Mothers do not need all the answers if they know Christ crucified.

Most days, I am certain I am doing it wrong. I picture my children, years from now, telling some therapist all of the ways that I messed up. They will tell stories of peanut butter sandwiches for days without end because I didn't have the energy for making anything more. They will bemoan the fact that I repeatedly refused to allow flip flops to be worn to church for no other reason than it just felt wrong.

I would surely be mortified if anyone counted how many times a day I hear myself saying, “Go play.” I know that I should, instead, really be telling them to “Come and sit.” I do my best to pour into them but am unsure how to do that when I myself feel so empty most days.

And I should know more. How many times do I answer their “why” with “I don’t know,” and I feel so inadequate in this role of mother. How do I explain the whys of cancer and divorce and friendships broken and a world that takes and never gives?

This job of mothering is overwhelming and lonely. It’s 2:00 a.m. and I rock a babe who fights sleep and I pray for her and for the other tinies who sleep down the hall.  I pray and admit that I know nothing when it comes to this thing called motherhood and I hear Paul’s words.

For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified (1 Corinthians 2:2).

Could it be that, to know nothing, is the best way to go about it?  When I sit down across from those questioning eyes and their innocent “whys,” could it be that “I don’t know” is the best answer I could give.

I know nothing about what makes people do the things they do, but I know Christ and Him crucified.

I have no way of knowing what tomorrow will hold, but I know Christ and Him crucified.

There will come a day, very soon, when my babes will have boo-boos that Barbie band-aids cannot fix. They will discover that the mother they think can do anything cannot do much at all in the way of healing broken hearts or making good-byes easy or making dreams come true.

And, yet, I am oddly at peace with that. I don’t want to have all of the answers.  I, like Paul, make a conscious decision to know nothing.

And, maybe, Paul had the key to successful parenting. I must be a mother who decides to know nothing except Christ and Him crucified.

Written by Stacy Edwards

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