We sat
sprawled across the two queen beds in the hotel room, much like our college
days, except without a bowl of cookie dough in the middle of us. While we used
to gather late at night to discuss social functions and boys we liked, the
topic of this conversation had changed with the times. The heartaches and struggles
of mothering. The declining health of parents. The
activities which seem to keep us all too busy. And, primarily, the loss of a
family member, which was the catalyst for this gathering.
Although
decades have passed since our days at Baylor, and many months have gone by
since we were all together, we picked up right where we left off. And once
again, gathered for the profound reason of standing with the one of us whose
sister had just died, we found our sacred bond. An intrinsically important need from
deep within us, being met in each others' presence. Sisters in Christ.
Members of the body who hurt and ache for the other parts when injuries and
struggles occur.
And it was a
reminder. The joy and lightness felt by
sharing our burdens with one another was an aching reminder.
Mamas need
friends too.
Motherhood is
oh-so-many-things that I never expected. I could write volumes on the “things
nobody tells you,” including how lonely the journey can be.
When you have a
newborn, you huddle like a hermit because of the effort it takes to get out
with both the tiny bundle and the incredible load of goods it takes to be prepared for
all contingencies. Not to mention, the brief nanosecond of opportunity for an
outing, squeezed between feedings and naps.
I can
remember when I suddenly found the chance for fellowship in those exhausting
infant days. I was never quite sure that I was communicating effectively due to
the lack of sleep as I tended to pepper my friends with anxious questions designed
to affirm that I was doing this well. Feelings of defeat bubbled just beneath
the surface when a mom friend casually mentioned that their newborn was sleeping
through the night, or their infant was already sitting up.
In my desperate
search for validation during those days of being a rookie mom, walking on
wobbly new legs, I let the comparison game get me down.
(This still happens. Because my teenagers are not All American athletes with an 8.7 GPA on a 5.0 scale who build clean water wells in Africa over Spring Break).
The toddler
days were a blur at our house, raising multiple children, juggling various nap
times, and bravely venturing out to play dates where every sentence with
another grown up was rudely interrupted by the cry of an infant or the whine of a
toddler. Moms of Preschoolers (MOPS) served as a chance for connection,
although the effort it took to gather my young and get out the door often let
me questioning the sanity and value of these outings. Gathering at the park
meant constantly watching children while trying to catch up with friends. And
mom’s night out was a rare treat that I almost never afforded myself.
In
hindsight, the elementary school days may have been the highlight of social
interaction with other moms. Sitting while our kids played a sport and we were
united in our enthusiastic cheering for the home team. Working together for
class parties. Venturing to the city pool, where at long last, all the children
could reach in the kiddie pool and the anxiety level finally dialed way down.
The truth
that I am living now is that raising teenagers can be a very lonely time for
mamas. Our kids are growing and changing and our mom tasks revolve around
acting as the Mom Taxi service, which tends to put a kink in connecting with
other moms.
While our kids don’t need
our constant supervision, never have I felt such a burden for constant prayer.
Parenting as pioneers in the age of technology can feel scary. The temptations and pitfalls are for real
now. No other generation of parents can be tapped for counsel as no other group
of parents before us have raised children who had access to iPhones and iPads
since they were born.
The
counterfeit connections of social media might be a good starting point for at
least the tiniest bit of interaction with other moms. But looking through the
filter of social media tends to skew the ability for authenticity in these
interactions.
However, if
we can use the resources at hand (AKA social media) to actually plan and plot a gathering in
person, it is so worth the effort. True that it took a tragic death to gather
us in that hotel room. But it served as a reminder that we indeed have a
treasure with each other. All the years and all the changes have not stolen the
way our hearts were knit together in our college years.
Two weeks
ago, I gathered with former co-workers from more than 20 years ago—also precipitated
by the death of someone we knew and loved.
And both of
these gatherings serve as a gentle reminder, perhaps even a soft scolding.
We mamas
need friends, too. The truth is that we already have a treasure of opportunity
within our circles, if we just make a little effort. Because other moms are
facing the same struggles. The same fears. The same defeats. The same angst.
The same hopes and dreams. And the same loneliness.
The five of us sat in
our pajamas, diving quickly into hard topics. Daring to be vulnerable with one
another about the things our kids are wrestling with, the dreams we fear should
be abandoned, the uncertainty of the future for us and our loved ones. And in
the tears and the camaraderie and the absolute honesty, we realized something.
All of us
wrestle with the loneliness. Driven by the fear to truly share our hearts with
those in our day-to-day circles, lest we or our children be judged. Because
while we can comment on and tag each other and like one another’s posts, we all
wonder if we can actually be real with others.
We are no longer a culture that
gathers around one anothers' tables in a regular rhythm. We no longer take the
time to sit long over a cup of coffee, leisurely allowing for the need for
connection because instead we are driven by the demanding staccato of tasks and
schedules. We no longer make the effort for things like Supper Clubs and porch
swings and actual time spent face-to-face, building a well of depth in our
relationships that provide us the luxury of authenticity.
And we need
it. The truth is that we need it. God designed us for community and connection.
One of the most beautiful benefits of being a follower of Christ is belonging
to the BODY of Christ. That means that we should all ache and pay attention to
any part that is hurting. That means working together in unity to help each
other. That means being a picture of diverse people whose only commonality is
the Jesus we proclaim, and it is enough. That means bearing each others' burdens.
That means comforting one another with the comfort we have received in our
own struggles from the God of all compassion. That means loving one another.
Forgiving one another. Giving generously to one another. Building one another up.
Encouraging one another.
All of which
requires being with one another.
Within the
world and within the Church, we are hungry for that which we were created for,
which is community. We are eager to be loved without condition. With great
patience and compassion. With laughter and shared tears. With a resolve that
says, when you are ruined by life’s devastation's, I will sit right here with
you. I will sit and grief. I will serve and help. I will listen and be silent.
I will have your back all the way, not allowing other distractions to deter me
from following through on being the support you need.
As moms, we
tend to see our friendships as luxuries we just can’t afford in this season of
life. The sand in the hourglass is slipping through, faster and faster. As we desperately
attempt to mother as well as we can and teach all that is needed before our
littles leave the nest. We struggle to find time with our spouse to make our
marriage a priority. Who has time for long lunches with friends?
But I was
reminded as we laughed till our sides ached, and cried together over freshly
revealed heartaches, and huddled in a circle to pray over each other that we
actually cannot afford to not make
the effort for genuine, Christ honoring friendship.
The body
cannot function at optimal capacity when it is disjointed and ignoring the
needs of any part of it.
And so, we
must be brave. We must be intentional. We must be diligent and bold. To carve
out times to be with each other. To put our own agendas aside and love without
condition. To courageously give and love with such extravagance that the world
sees a beauty among believers that it longs to join. And then we must be quick to welcome them. To be vulnerable and open
and honest and transparent.
We moms tend
to see times for friendships as being selfish.
We forget
that it’s actually an opportunity to be selfless. To divide the heartaches. To
multiply the joy. To be the body we were intended to be.
So may we
not wait until tragedy strikes. May we not put it off until tomorrow. But today,
may we pull out our calendar and find a time and make a phone call. Scheduling
some face time with a friend.
Mamas need
friends, too. But it takes effort and energy and time.
And it’s an
investment that is well worth every sacrifice.
But God has
combined the members of the body and has given greater honor to the parts that
lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts
should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part
suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.
1
Corinthians 12:24-26
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