Category Archives: Motherhood

The Ugly Parent-The 17th Day of Christmas

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On the 17th day of Christmas my true love gave to me a face to change my reality (Isaiah 52:14).

Sometimes Sundays make me sad. When I should be continually rejoicing because I get to go to church, worship with the saints and potentially hear a great word (depending on how my 1 year old is acting) I get sad and sometimes feel I just want to stay home. I don’t want to get washed and dressed, get three children washed and dressed, prepare food and feed us, pack diaper bags with diapers, wipes, drinks and snacks, get bibles, coats, gloves and hats, drive to church, unpack the children, take off our coats, take the oldest two to their classes and wait with bated breath until I have to go to the Cry Room to listen to a word from the babies. And all of this, most times, without a made-up face. That’s right, no makeup to cover up eyes that earlier cut across rooms to remind the boys to hurry up and a mouth mentioning that we will be late. I think I would just be better, feel better, if I had a made-up face, but I go plain, often, because taking care of my boys doesn’t allow time for a made-up face.

Just as there were many who were appalled at him—his appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any man and his form marred beyond human likeness—(Isaiah 52:14).

Then this comes to mind, a description of what the greatest parent ever, Jesus Christ, would endure: heavy hands from hollowed hearts, cruelty unimaginable that made Him unimaginable (Philippians 2:7-11). Jesus willingly received a face He didn’t want or choose but accepted so we could have a chance at life, a beauty beyond makeup basics with everlasting implications. His face was made up in a different way, beaten and bruised beyond recognition, suffering cruelty and being ugly for you and for me.

For now on Sundays may make me sad but I hope more with the sullen reality of my selfish desire for a face that will never be life-changing.

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

Have Compassion

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Daniel, my child in Burkina Faso

For the past week I followed the Compassion bloggers on their trip to Guatemala. Their messages, beautiful and haunting about children and their families whose home life forces us Americans to rename our poverty, made my body gush tears, wrung me out, stripped me apart and made me think about what part I play in ending this poverty. Continue reading →

The Kids’ Break

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They whined.
They begged.
They hollered and screamed.
They threw fruit.
They hit and wouldn’t share.
They called to mom to referee though dad was there too.
And the littlest one laughed at their antics.

I shushed, made them ask and say please and thank you.
I spoke and spanked and made them share
And all became clear: Having no routine for a 2 and 7 year old doesn’t work unless you want MORE work.

So, on my blogging break I learned a break for me can’t be a break for the kids, at least not in the same way. They need an organized schedule that includes plenty of energy-burning activities to keep them focused and calm, kind even, and keeps the mommy feeling like she’s still having some sort of break, even as a part-time referee.

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

Manhood to Mission Field

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I struggle with being a mom, not with the fact that I am one, but with the reality of doing motherhood. Yes, I clean bottoms, feed bellies, entice minds with books, bible studies and verses. I run. I jump. I sing. I pray. Lord knows I pray. I have to. You, mothers, know what I’m talking about. But sometimes my motherhood rhythm is off and throws off my daily dance. Shoot, on some days I don’t even want to find the rhythm because then I’m forced to dance. I had a day like this on my blogging break in July. Now God can speak any time, I know this, but I think my not being focused on blogging helped me to hear God clearer, differently even from before, about why He gave me children. Continue reading →

Snapshot Moment

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My Three Sons

I had a snapshot moment with my two youngest. They had a synchronized meltdown, crying in unison and both clamoring for mama’s love. After I changed the toddler’s training pants and then the baby’s diaper, I wiped the waterfalls from their faces and let them lay in bed with me. The baby nursed on my right while the toddler caressed my left. That was yesterday. Today was almost a snap back moment when all three wanted something from me: The firstborn wanted permission to play a game; the toddler wanted cereal; and the baby just wanted me. I was only gone for three hours, a needful leave to get my teeth cleaned and some groceries, something my husband usually does, but he was sick. And he was with them when I was gone for three hours, but not all the way with them because he was sick. I had a muffin this morning. I resisted overspending because I was hungry and looked forward to eating when I got home. But with three needy children demanding me upon arrival and a sick spent husband, food for me had to wait a little bit, and I almost said, “Oooo, dese kids,” but I remembered my poem with that line and decided to shut my mouth, suck up my plans and meditate on being a Carrier of Life.

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith