A shared blanket laid out on a crisp grassy lawn. A beautiful blue sky beckoning us to come outside. A cool spot on the lawn shaded by the leaves of a generous tree. The anticipation of a joyous summer palpable as my boys and I enjoyed a reset and refresh outside on this blanket. My soul was searching for joy in motherhood in the great outdoors.
“Baaaabyyyyyy!” My oldest squealed as he laid at the feet of his baby brother. His baby brother laughing joyfully at the attention, a side effect of his older brother tickling his stomach.
This moment that brought my heart such joy in motherhood seemed an impossible dream several weeks ago.
After what seemed like an eternity, my two babies were coexisting without simultaneously trying to hurt one another (well, my oldest hurting the youngest).
Before the moment could slip away like a scattered thought, I breathed in, held on to the joy I felt in this moment and etched the picture in my mind. Joy in motherhood found in this single moment, and I thanked God for it.
Plop. I dropped the joyful memory into my pocket to save for later.
Worshipful words float on transparent music chords and caress our ears with its melody. The room grows darker as day turns to twilight turns to evening. My youngest and I intertwine fingers as he nurses before bed. Feeling his baby-soft hands wrap around my index finger, I hear my oldest belly laughing with his daddy before they run upstairs to kiss baby brother good night.
My youngest rests long enough in his nursing to flash me a big, toothless, milky grin. A pause for him, and a come-back-to-the-present moment for me. Although my mind runs through to-do lists and tasks I’ve left undone downstairs, my heart bursts as we have reached the stage in our mother-baby relationship where my youngest knows I am his mama, and he knows I love him.
I know these are not our everyday moments. Not all moments so perfectly portioned to fill my heart to the brim. But even if they are, I don’t want to take any of these moments for granted, ignoring the impact they can have on my heart, these encounters with the God who loves us so heavily. So thoroughly. And before this moment vanishes into the realm of “just another night,” I close my eyes, feel the joy in motherhood shared in laughter and intertwined hands, and etch the picture in my mind.
Plop. I drop the shared memory into my pocket to save for later when my joy in motherhood pocket is running low.
My husband and I look at each other, both recognizing exhaustion in the fine lines of the other’s face. But we can breathe a deep sigh of relieved air knowing we are each others’ safe place as our ultimate Stronghold holds us in the palms of His strong hands. This shared faith grows us closer as we grow closer to our Refuge and Strong Rock. Whatever we face, we are each other’s advocates. This road to where we are, as parents to two little blessing boys, has been a whirly ride. But we are here for it.
We sit together, side-by-side on the bench of a wagon ride, feeling every bump together. We both agree we wouldn’t (no, we couldn’t) do this everyday life with any other person. The power in that statement not lost or taken for granted in a world of failing vows and promises.
As I sit beside him on our squeaking couch, another long-short day in the books, I thank the Lord for my husband. For the protector of our family. I hold his hand and give it a squeeze. We don’t have to say a word.
Plop. I drop the marriage moment into my pocket to save for later.
Mumford & Sons plays from my iPhone projected to speakers. Goosebumps rise, my heart soars, singing the words “In the cold light, I live to love and adore you/ It’s all that I am.” I lift my oldest into my arms, spinning him around. He throws his head back, and I see his toothy smile, his teeth showing, and his nose scrunching. I know he can feel the presence of God as we share this moment. My life, in love and adoration, is all that I am. That is really all that I have to give. It’s the being of who I am, the broad roots that long to drink deeply from a water source that is never-ending.
I feel my pocket begin to get very full.
But it’s not heavy, this joy. This joy is not a burden to bear. The “burden” is the joy the world calls joy—happy, feel-good, always smiling distracted souls, seeking and searching for moments of joy in all of the wrong places.
Count it ALL pure joy, my brothers and sisters, when you face trials of any kind (James 1:2). As I think back to my moments of grief—my miscarriages, my failed attempts at past relationships, my job denials, in everything the world says is not joy, my joy in motherhood and marriage is made complete in the fullness, the full-circles that God creates. How he encompasses us in never-ending circles, showing us the fullness of HIS joy. This is the path of life (Psalm 16:11). This is the joy-filled way he makes known.
My joy is made complete in you, my God.
If we get just one solid rock joy moment, then we will know God and be made complete in him. Lacking nothing.
Joy is not always easily seen on the faces of the ones who hold it. But joy is sometimes not easily held. Or is something we always welcome. Sometimes joy comes as a surprise, startling you at the power of our mighty God. Sometimes joy enters in a quiet moment, rising slowly but surely.
And sometimes joy comes in huge bursts in which your soul cannot hold in all of this glory. Tears emit from your eyes or goosebumps on your flesh or you fall to your knees in gratitude, overcome by the moment. Joy that cannot be contained. It literally breaks through the barrier of your skin and is felt like a shockwave spreading from one joyous moment to your heart.
Joy so sudden and intense, only this moment could be filled with just a partial amount of who God is. This joy leaves you exhausted after the moment has passed, but the smile lingers and you leave with a heart having experienced a glimpse of God, simultaneously light and all-encompassing.
How we can share this joy in motherhood? Share these joyous moments where we know for certain there is a God, a God who loves us because, guess what?
We just danced with him.
We experience the fullness and the abundance of who God is in that one moment or if we’re blessed, a string of moments. A string of truly and purely beautiful moments that grow dim in comparison to being in the complete presence of God.
No matter how you do it, mama, fill those pockets with Godly joy.
What does God intend from this fruit of joy in motherhood?
Joy does not necessarily translate to “always happy”. Even in somber states of mind, we can still have joy. The joy that is the fruit of the Spirit is knowing that God, in His great mercy, sent his son to live, die, and rise among us. Joy is knowing that our Father has not left us, even for a moment. As our Father in heaven, God is delighted with us and therefore we can delight in him. When we recognize that our quiet times, prayers, and community life are joyful because God is at the center, our joy in motherhood becomes a deep strong root, drinking heavily from the joy that God, our Sower, gives.
What or who is stealing this fruit of joy in our motherhood?
As we have children, the joys we initially feel are replaced with the burden of how to raise them, nurture them, and place in them an anchor for Jesus. This burden becomes very apparent when we see these everyday duties as our responsibility. And nothing takes away our joy in motherhood more than thinking we have to figure all of this out on our own. Moment by moment, each thought gets stolen and our joy in motherhood gets depleted. The enemy tries to distract us to the point of inactivity and hopelessness. “Not good enough.” “Not smart enough.” “Not [insert the blank] enough.” We can travel down these neverending rabbit tunnels for far too long. And pretty soon, we are rendered inactive by all the what-ifs.
How do we cultivate rich JOY in the dry seasons of motherhood?
When we believe that God is our shepherd, leading us through the oftentimes dark tunnels of motherhood, we can have hope that we are not on our own, figuring all of this out by ourselves. Filling our pockets with joyful moments ALL day every day is an act of worship. Kelly Wise Valdes states that “Joyful people make a commitment to gratitude regardless of the circumstances.” I love that. As we go through our days, let us remind ourselves there is joy in ALL things when we know that God is with us, and in HIS presence we are made complete.
Your Turn
What can you do today to remind yourself that joy is a “commitment to gratitude” and foster a joyful heart? You might collect moments in a journal, write this verse Psalm 16:11 on a sticky note and place it somewhere for you to see daily, or look back at your day, notice the difficult moments, and determine where the joy can be found: in knowing your Heavenly Father.
How does joy in motherhood compare to joy in God? Or joy in friendships or joy in marriage? How does having God at the center of all these result in joy?
