“The laborious steps to the Kingdom of Motherhood are not always so beautiful, but today they are for you!”
A dear friend of mine sent me these words along with a gorgeous picture on Mother’s Day one year. I’ve pondered upon the words my friend wrote and I realize that her words are full of grace and wisdom.
I first became a mother when I was 22-years old. When they laid my daughter on my chest I knew that my heart would never be the same. Here was this tiny, little person totally dependent on me to care and love her. I’d never held such responsibility and I sure didn’t want to mess up. But, as motherhood will go, we tend to make a lot of mistakes. It’s a learning experience, not just at the beginning, but every single day.
The steps of motherhood (in my mind) are each a characteristic, a virtue if you will, that children will teach you if you open your heart to their lessons and love. Undoubtedly, the first step is shedding our natural instinct towards selfishness. I believe the word “selfish” is an antonym of the word “mother.” The two words just don’t jive together. From never being able to go to the bathroom in peace, to never finishing a sentence in a book before being interrupted, to sharing every single thing you have, motherhood does a fine job of shedding our skin of selfishness. This can be hard and the first step is not the last time you will see a step with selfishness labeled on the front of it. It’s a constant climb to learn that true happiness comes from giving yourself to others–the art of focusing outwards and not inwards. Maybe that’s why grandmothers are so giving, so patient, so tolerant. They have years of practice climbing the steps and they are masters in their own right.
There are steps of motherhood that, quite frankly, I wish I could have jumped over. Those times when I climb a flight and stand with hands on hips in confident triumph, only to go toppling down and being forced to start all over again. Some steps have taught me lessons that sting, some have been so difficult to climb I feel my legs can’t go on, and some steps have left scars that burn like fire. Those are the times that I just sit on the steps and feel the waves of failure and defeat wash over me. Yet, in those times, my children always find a way to speak to my heart and they grab my hand and pull me over the hump. Guided by their love and innocence, I feel the wind in my sails again.
More often than not, though, climbing my steps of motherhood are taken in joyful strides. When I see my oldest daughter, Rhianna, becoming the intelligent, independent, hard-working young lady that she is, my heart swells with pride. I realize that I must be doing something right. When my Sydney amazes me, yet again, with an understanding of others guided by her heart of compassion, I am inspired to continually better myself. I look forward to what my little man, Jeremiah, will bring to this world. He already adds so much light and joy. He will have his own set of gifts, his own way of teaching me and I can’t wait to discover all he has in store.
I imagine each step is an event, a joy, a memory, or a lesson that I have experienced with my children as their mother. When I look down my steps, I am reminded that I have come a long way and I will continue to climb towards a more virtuous, more compassionate, more patient woman. Children can drawn out negative traits within us if we give them the chance. There will be other falls and scraped knees as I continue to climb, but I am blessed because I get to climb it with my three treasures.
