I walked through the red automatic doors into my happy place, aka Target. Just a few minutes walking it’s aisles, away from a messy house and husband, help me relax. After hitting up the alluring dollar spot, I made my way to the home goods section when suddenly I heard a ghoulish shriek come from over in the food aisles.
A mother was trying desperately to get her kid under control. He was screaming something about toys and wanting to go home while she pulled him along by the arm.
I felt myself grow angry and mumbled under my breath about parenting skills and tried to go on with my perusing. But the crying got louder and louder. The mother placed her kid in the cart and simply kept grocery shopping, ignoring the flailing child. I rolled my eyes and told myself I would NEVER allow my kids to act like that in public.
After I found my Target treasures, I checked out and made my way back to my car. I ventured through the aisles trying to find it when finally I saw a glimpse of my bumper behind a giant SUV that parked in front of me while I was inside the store. It was one of the worst parking jobs I had seen. I felt my temper grow even more as I saw the honor student and stick-figure family stickers. I shimmied through the small gap between my car and hers and got in the driver’s seat.
“Freaking soccer moms are killing me!”
I muttered to myself as I navigated my way out of the parking lot.
For a majority of my life I have had no respect or understanding for mothers. When all my friends started quitting their jobs and becoming moms, I pitied them. I thought their college careers were wasted on kids. I even mentally wore a badge of pride in the fact I hadn’t settled down and started a family. Worse of all, I mentally wrote off a lot of my friends who had kids because I couldn’t relate to them anymore.
Growing up, I was always a little embarrassed when people asked what my mom did. I would always respond, “Eh, she just stays at home.”
But God can shape a heart, show you of your pride and judgmentalism. I’m not sure when it clicked, but God revealed to me that ...
Raising children is a much more difficult calling than what I realized.
My mom is a brilliant and amazing woman. She was an amazing teacher, but God called her to stay at home and take care of my sister and I. We were her mission field. She always had dinner on the table and would cart me and about 5 other girls every Wednesday night to church. She endured with patience through my awkward tomboy phase. She also taught me what a serving and loving wife is like by honoring my father.
While I used to think it was nothing, now I am so thankful that she obeyed God. Without the love, wisdom and instruction of my mother, I would not be the woman I am today. I am SO grateful that she poured her heart into my life.
TO THE MOM IN TARGET,
I am sorry I judged you. Maybe your day was the worst and you just needed groceries to make your family dinner that night. Next time, rather than being cruel, I will pray for you and your life. Please forgive me.
TO THE MOM IN THE SUV,
I’m sorry I grumbled at you for your parking skills. Maybe you were having a bad day too. Maybe you were so distracted with your children’s schedule and trying to run a household you misjudged the painted lines. Please forgive me.
TO ALL MOMS,
I am so sorry that I ever thought less of you. I am sorry I judged your lives as taking the easy route. I am sorry that I showed you no mercy and understanding with your children. To all my friends who have children and I have stopped keeping up with, I am sorry.
I want you to know that you are so important!
You are literally helping shape a tiny person’s life. You show your kids what life is about and help show them the love of Jesus every single day with the life you live.
Your children might not realize it now, but one day they will look back and see all that you did for them and thank you.