I have always wanted to be a mother.

I remember a comment my brother made when I first told him about my then-boyfriend-now-husband, Jonathan. My brother was in disbelief and said, “I always thought you’d end up a single woman adopting kids.” Even though I bewilderingly joked, “you have no faith in me!!” I kind of also thought he made a lot of sense.

After all, I had always wanted to be a mother, even more so than to be a wife.

idolizing motherhood before its dawn

But such a longing highlights my tendency to possibly make my children my identity. This had already surfaced when we were trying to conceive.

Those months of trying felt like forever, and that time-of-the-month came unwelcome. The number of test packs I had bought, the amount of times I’d quietly close the bathroom door to pee on a stick. Each single-line (on the pregnancy test) meant I had failed yet again, and I could only blame myself, my body, my womanhood.

Though upon hindsight, I do believe that the Lord’s timing is perfect (this is another story to be told another time), in the midst of waiting, I had grown impatient, doubtful, and insecure. Even prior to motherhood dawning, I had already wrapped my identity around my ability to bear children.

So here I pen this today as a reminder. That even without a child, I was able to elevate motherhood as an idol. Imagine setting foot into motherhood itself. How easy it would be for me to live revolving around this child’s development, achievement, performance. Oh, but that would be a burden too heavy for my child to bear!

motherhood as God’s good design

Tim Keller wrote that idolatry is “turning a good thing into the ultimate thing,” and surely motherhood is a good thing. It is a God-given role and entrustment.

All the way to the first pages of Scripture we see God’s command to Adam and Eve to “be fruitful and multiply,” (Gen. 1:28) and this had been the case even before sin entered the world. God intended mankind to experience the joys of parenting, to multiply His image-bearers (Gen. 1:27) in all the earth.

Truly, children are “a gift from the Lord; a reward from Him,” (Ps. 127:3).

Even Jesus taught His disciples to “welcome [the] little children” (Mk. 9:37). In a world where children may at times be seen as nuisances, as an interruption to our [travel] plans, as a hindrance for women, especially, to break through the glass ceiling (as though we need to choose one or the other)…we are taught of a very different posture, a most dignifying way of viewing motherhood.

Motherhood, even it means taking a pause at our “normal” lives, bears God’s good design of unconditional love, of self-denial, of round-the-clock service, of sacrifice.

These nine months of childbearing has made me ponder upon how every mother has had to give up self, for a life she has never met nor seen. The way our bodies would morph into something completely different (insecurity is real…), finding ourselves more frail and exhausted than we were ever used to, taking extra precaution in what we consume, including trudging through sickness without (or with the least possible) medication.

Many assume that I’ve had an easy pregnancy all along. Though surely I cannot say I’ve seen the worst of it–I, too, have had my share of nausea, regular vomiting, being put to bedrest, low blood pressure, GERD, and passing out. The most recent has been a development of carpal tunnel syndrome (which I pray would go away post-birth).

And though every pregnancy is different (please do extend grace to us pregnant women…) each journey towards motherhood carries God’s beautiful design of self-giving love.

“God leads His dear children along different pathways. But He asks the same brand of commitment of all of them. Everybody who wants to follow Him has to: give up self, take up the cross, follow.”

Elisabeth Elliot, in Passion and Purity

But did Jesus not model this for us first?

the pattern of motherhood: Christ’s self-giving love

Entering motherhood (or parenthood, in general) should make us ponder upon how much of a glorious privilege it is that God has given us to partake in His self-giving love.

To walk in the footsteps of our Risen Lord, who had first given Himself up to love us, and to give us life (Jn. 3:16). Jesus did so even when we did not know Him, nor loved Him (Rm. 5:8), and more: we were His enemies (Rm. 5:10)!

So this is the love by which I am to draw strength as I step into this coming season of motherhood. Not by my might nor preparedness (nesting instincts are real…), but as I abide in God’s love.

To love as Christ loved me first (1 Jn. 4:19). For if I base my motherhood on anything else, I will surely turn it into an idol.

mothering as a child of God

And so now as we anticipate the arrival of our firstborn (we are literally on baby watch!), I pray the Lord would set my eyes on this Gospel truth yet again. To know that in this coming season, my identity does not rest in my ability to give birth naturally, to breastfeed exclusively, nor to nurture my daughter to become the sweetest, most-unfussy, non-picky-eater, sleep-trained, well-mannered, well-dressed girl, who grows according to the growth chart and ticks all the developmental milestones to the dot (I can go on and on…).

But to receive this entrustment of a child with open arms. Admitting that I will fall short as a mother, be it knowingly or unintentionally. That I can try my best to follow all the most recent studies and trends on parenting and child-rearing. And yet never have it all together.

Motherhood will be messy. But too, full of Grace.

Grace that sustains, grace that enables, grace that pardons my misgivings, sleeping through the baby’s cry, an inability to pump as I had scheduled, or to produce as much milk supply as I had hoped… Grace that covers even the breakdowns from mom-guilt or insecurity of my body not being as how it once was. And grace that helps me walk through the sometimes (often) unwarranted, but well-intentioned, overwhelming amount advice given by other mothers who had “been there, done that.”

For the Lord who calls me to motherhood is my ever-gracious Father. Whom I can trust to strengthen my feeble (carpal-tunnel-syndromed) hands, to love and care for this Gift of a child.

So as much as I’ve always longed to be a mother, I pray I may continue to remain a child. His child, always.

And to, throughout this motherhood journey, have my eyes set Heavenwards. To long for that Day, when both I and my child, may come before the Lord, face to face, to hear the words spoken over the both of us: “Well done, my good and faithful [children]” (Mt. 25:23).

For my child, ultimately, belongs to the Lord. As I am His child, so shall she be. And so to the Father, I entrust my child. And surely, to the Father, I entrust my motherhood.