I See You, Mom


“I see you, Mom. Whether you are 16, 36, or 60. You have not been forgotten. Your efforts are not in vain. I see it all.“ 
I see you, Working Mom. Racing through yellow lights to get to daycare after work. Rushing in the morning because you wanted “just 5 more minutes” to snuggle before dropping him off for the day. Running towards her on the weekend, every weekend. Soaking up every moment. I know that you bounce between guilt for going to work (and not being home enough), and the guilt of wanting to go to work, because it’s work you love.
I see you, Single Mom. Working graveyard shifts to put food on the table. You question whether what you do every day is enough, and if it’s even worth it. I know you feel stuck. I see the questions you ask, the tears that you cry. The loneliness you feel. The guilt that crushes you in the darkness.
I see you, New Mom. In the fog of sleep deprivation and total shock at the emotional trauma you’re experiencing. I see you change another diaper and feed your crying infant. And then wake up an hour later to do it all over again. Day in. Day out. I hear your heart that cries silently for the “bonding” to kick in because you aren’t feeling it yet. Or for the crying to stop. For just one minute. I see the sacrifices you’re making. And those you will yet make.
I see you, Stay-at-Home Mom. The guilt you feel for wanting to go to work some days. Those moments when you are at the end of your rope. When you wish you could give your kids back. When you feel overwhelmed. Exhausted. Beaten. I see your desire for a different purpose. Not greater, just different. I see the effort you make. Your intentional decisions. The prayers that are offered silently for your children. And your sanity.
I see you, Empty-Nester Mom. You’re still up late into the night praying for those who left your home long ago. You know that your job isn’t over. Yet you find yourself asking “what now?” Everything you knew is gone and you are different. I heard the many silent screams for freedom over the years. And the prayers for the passions buried deep in your heart. Now that you have the time and freedom, I see how you wish back those early days, when all you had was time with your children. All day, every day.
I see you. Every one of you.
I know your heart. Your hurts. Your worries and prayers. Your passions and purposes. I know it all. I see every tear. I hear every prayer. And I need you to know – you are not alone.
I am with you. I have always been.

Before YOU were born, I knit YOU together in YOUR mothers womb. Just like those babes of yours, you were also fearfully and wonderfully made. You want the best for your children. Just like I want the best for you.

So, for this moment, for today, rest in this truth from your Father:
You are not alone. He is near. He hears you. He sees You. He knows your effort. He is proud of your sacrifice. He is not finished with you, regardless of where you are in your journey. His plan is to perfect you, to know you, to love you. Happy Mother’s Day.