At bedtime, my children often take the final moments of the day to deposit one last fear, one more complaint, or one final wish into my repository. That’s what I’ve become to my children. I am mom—a safe place for my kids to store all their thoughts and dreams, and all their fears and anxieties.
Sometimes my kids just want to deposit a little concern so they can be free of it. Mom can take care of it now.
Other times, they want me to evaluate their deposit and judge whether or not it’s worth storing.
Many times they just want me to shelter their concern for a while.
My children have judged that I am a repository equal to the task of sorting and storing all their cares—both small and large.
But oh, how they have misjudged me!
My repository full, I start declining deposits.
Not a crisis, take care of that one yourself.
Hold onto that one and come back during business hours.
Or I punt. Um, give that one to dad.
As I close their bedroom doors, I sometimes congratulate myself: Good job—you’re helping them grow into well-adjusted, independent adults. It’s good for them to learn to evaluate the relative weightiness of their concerns. It’s good for them to confront their own problems.
But more often than not, I go to my own bed keenly aware of my insufficiencies. I doubt my initial assessments. I’m overwhelmed by the quantity of their deposits and unable to properly sort and store them. My reserves are woefully depleted. I am simply not enough.
Unbidden, my failures also spring up to taunt me—you should have been more gentle with their fears. Why didn’t you take time to redirect them to prayer? You’re happy enough to store all your own concerns. Make room for theirs!
In my failures and weaknesses, I turn once more to Jesus—that superior repository. From his vast storehouses, I withdraw forgiveness for my failures and strength for my weaknesses. I deposit my own thoughts and dreams for safekeeping and place my fears and anxieties on his strong shoulders. I lie down and sleep; when I wake, sunlit mercies and fresh strength greet me.
I know I am not enough. Not today. Not ever. And that’s okay, because I know the one who is more than enough. Weak moms point their children to the strength of Jesus. Burdened moms teach burdened children to release all their fears and hopes into Jesus’ capable hands. Repenting moms call on their children to meet them at the mercy seat where together they find an inexhaustible repository of grace and mercy, wisdom and peace, and everything else they will ever need.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you other weak, burdened, and repenting moms out there. Jesus is enough—for you and your children!