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For a long time I have felt like I am barely surviving this motherhood gig… and that surely that’s so obvious that everyone can see it… which of course must result in them quietly wondering why someone like me would choose to have six children (because in this age of contraception one doesn’t really have an excuse for having that many children except for total insanity…. right?).

{In case you hadn’t noticed by now, I am a master mind-reader and frequently have conversations with people, real or imaginary, without them being present, let alone having any input}

The result of these conversations, with people that don’t actually exist (although I have been told many, many times to my face, by real people, that I must be crazy to have six children), is me feeling wildly inadequate as a mother, unable to be honest with those around me when I’m struggling (because, well, I chose that kind of crazy, no-ones else’s problem to deal with… right…) and thinking that if I can just hang on for the crazy ride, eventually it will be over. Not really the healthiest approach to life, and not so fun for everyone involved. And probably I should just stop pretending I know what other people are thinking… but we all know that ain’t gonna happen.

This morning tho, I realised something… something incredible…. wait for it…. God doesn’t make mistakes (yep, sometimes I can be a little slow…). And giving me six children – not a mistake. Not something He ‘missed’ or that somehow surprised Him while he was busy taking care of other people’s lives.

Now don’t get my wrong, my kids are fantastic, and I love them very, very much, and I am incredibly grateful for each one of them. I just often feel like somehow they lucked out on getting me as their mum… me who is noise-sensitive, quickly gets touched-out, doesn’t really like mess or chaos or lots of crazy…. yep, me with the six kids over here. But God doesn’t make mistakes. He didn’t confuse me with someone who was going to be a better mum and accidentally send me her kids. He didn’t think it would be some kind of funny practical joke to give me this crazy uber-fertility and send me six little people to love and care for despite my wild inadequacies.

He does want me (and you) to know though, that I need Him. For all of it. In every moment, of every day. That in blessing me with children, He has specifically called me to this amazing (and intense and sometimes a little bit crazy) job of motherhood, and that where He calls us, He will equip and provide. I don’t need to feel qualified, I need to know the one who holds all things in His hand. I don’t need to be all things to my children, because He is my everything and will be theirs. I don’t need to work it all out, I just need to trust in Him, He makes no mistakes.

“Now may the God of peace—who brought up from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great Shepherd of the sheep, and ratified an eternal covenant with his blood— may he equip you with all you need for doing his will. May he produce in you, through the power of Jesus Christ, every good thing that is pleasing to him. All glory to him forever and ever! Amen.” Hebrews 13:20-21

Be blessed lovely ones!

Liss x



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