In my late 20s, while raising children and trying to figure out life, I felt overwhelmed, lost, and confused. Not because of my children, but because I was not where I thought I would be. I thought success meant becoming a physical therapist, killing it with my husband and children. Instead, here I was at home with my children (tragic, right?) God revealed that my children were not a delay to my purpose; they were the work through which He was refining me.
I found myself on my knees, before the Lord, face bowed, crying out, "God, what am I supposed to do?! Here I am, feeling like nothing, yet certain that You have a purpose for me. Help me show me what you want me to do."
He didn't show me all of it, but He gave it to me piece by piece. And I'm here to tell you that our children are the greatest work.
I may not have gotten everything I wanted, but I invested myself fully in the details of my children's lives. God showed me that He wanted me to train them to be men and women of God. God called me to ministry through motherhood.
Until recently, I truly felt satisfied with the work I had poured in. My children may be young, but I intentionally teach them the basics because that foundation matters. Still, there are moments when I wonder if what I teach is really getting through. (especially when I repeat myself over and over, and that can feel frustrating). I pray over them, even when I don't immediately see the fruit of those prayers.
Children are our greatest work, beautifully created by God and handed to us as blank slates. In every stage they enter brings a new kind of tug-of-war, a little chaos, a little stretching, and a whole lot of molding. It's our responsibility as mothers to shape, teach, and guide them, even when it feels like the weight of the world sits in our laps. And yes, it gets frustrating. Yes, it feels like we repeat ourselves a thousand times. I've had my own moments where I don't want to teach, correct, or be patient anymore... moments where I wonder, "Why aren't you getting it?" The truth is, every lesson is just as much for them as it is for us. Seeds don't bloom the moment they're planted. Some need time, nurturing, and consistent love before they break through the soil. And as they grow, so do we.