The Changing Fears of Motherhood: Jesus’ Call to Trust Him with Our Children
I (Hope) ended the call with a friend and stood in my dirty kitchen, staring at the dishes in the sink. She was a decade younger than me and had two small children. I had been mentoring her for about a year, meeting when we could for coffee or while her children ran around us in her backyard. We talked through her worry about her three-year-old daughter’s recent disrespect and disobedience, and I encouraged her with a few words and reminders. In the moments after the call I thought to myself, I remember worrying about the same thing like it was yesterday, petrified by the way my three-year-old was misbehaving at the grocery store. Before that I remember feeling terrified that my newborn might not wake up in the morning. And before that I was scared my baby wouldn’t survive for 40 weeks in utero. I thought about how my fear in motherhood hadn’t gone away but had changed over the years. Now I don’t worry about potty words and disrespect. I’m not even around my children for most of the hours of my day. Now I have teenagers. And I worry about my 16-year-old making it home from school as she drives her own car. I worry about my middle schoolers being offered drugs. The majority of days, I worry.
Oh, yes. I’m familiar with the deep tendrils of mother fear, as you probably are too. I feel it in my stomach and as a tightness in my chest that creeps up to my shoulders. I know what it feels like to be a mom and to be afraid. Somehow I thought as they grew the fear would subside. That when they no longer had to be placed on their back to sleep safely or strapped into a car seat to legally ride to the store they would somehow be out of the danger zone that kept me up at night in those early years. I realize now that in this new season of parenting, while the dangers have changed from SIDS to drunk driving and tantrums to misplaced ideologies, the fear feels the same. I’m scared for my children, and there’s only one person who isn’t.
Though we may repeat the full, scenic, worst case scenario loop in our minds, through his Word, God brings us back to the same destination—his feet and his faithfulness. What do we need to hear in those moments? What can we go back to as an anchor? We need to scoot back out of the fear in our circumstances and anchor ourselves in the truth. This is what we encourage our sisters to do. We desperately need the body to remind us of God’s faithfulness—especially to our children. Where specifically can we go to read about that faithfulness when we’re doubting God’s commitment to our children, or to us?
Romans 8:29 reads, “For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.” This verse sometimes gets missed because it comes just after one many love to quote. It’s a treasure if we linger on it for a moment. He is able to shape our children into the image of Christ. Is he not doing so in our own lives? He is more committed to our children than we are. We can look to him to accomplish the thing that we long for more than anything—that they might know and look like Jesus. We may not know what suffering they will endure on the way, but we know the One who leads them.
Psalm 34:17–18 tells us, “When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” God never promises that he will prevent all harm from coming to our precious children. Their suffering may be part of what he allows and uses to lead them to his arms. Whether it’s our suffering as we watch their pain, or theirs as they struggle, his promise is that he will not leave us alone in it. He is close, near, beside us in our struggle. He will be attentive to them in theirs.
Deuteronomy 7:9 commands, “Know therefore that the LORD your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations.” Our little nuclear families are part of a much bigger kingdom that God is building. If we zoom out and look at God’s faithfulness to his people over decades, centuries, and millenia, we are overwhelmed by the wonder and majesty of the tapestry of providence he is weaving. He has kept his promise to love his people to a thousand generations. Will he not keep it to our children, in this generation?
The next time our boat of faith feels blown about by the winds of worry, we can slow down, zoom out and anchor back into what is true, not just for them, but us as well. The great Shepherd of the sheep, Jesus, is the Shepherd of our children’s souls. The promises we cling to in his Word are promises they can cling to as well. The circumstances of our fears for them will continue to change; the call will remain the same. We can trust Jesus with the lives, hopes, bodies, and souls of our children while trusting him with our own.
