And They Call Me Mama

Over the past few months I've been in somewhat of a drought. A dark night of my soul, if you will. I haven't felt fulfilled. I haven't felt productive. I haven't felt like myself. I've wondered whether or not I should re-enter the workforce, whether we should take another foster placement, whether I can get away with spending the day in bed because I just feel so blah.  

When I went to the dentist the other day, she asked how in the world I could possibly stay home with two little ones. She never would have the patience. Considering what I look like at the end of most days, I don't really have an answer.  Trust me, I do not have super-natural patience.  I've tried reading self-help books with campy titles such as The Stay At Home Mom Survival Guide and Stay Home, Stay Happy, hoping to find some validation, some joy, some peace. And yet I still feel like I'm paying $300 a month to wipe bottoms (thanks, student loans!).  I've been struggling lately.  Struggling with my role in life.  Feeling undervalued.  Comparing my nonsuccesses - defeating an ambush of ants - with the successes of my friends - promotions, travel, advanced degrees.  I've wondered if I should go back to working outside the home, and what it'll be like when my kids go to school.  I've been a whiner.  And as you know, whiners never win.

And then, in the unlikeliest of places, I found my footing.  I remembered why we are called to be joyful, not happy.  I was reading Shauna Niequist's book Bread and Wine in which she talks about her relationship with food and how she has come to realize that it is how God speaks to her. It is how she feels his presence, and in turn feels that she is his hands and feet in the world. For some people, nature is what connects them to God.  For others it is music.  And in that quiet moment, it struck me that being a mom is my bread and wine.

It is in being a mom, more than anything else, that I feel alive and in God's presence.  St. Iraneus said, "The glory of God is man fully alive".  I feel alive when I talk about my kids.  My heart feels as though it could melt when I recount my days. I tangibly feel the presence of God when I hold my kids and read to them.  And I feel God's pleasure.  

I am a mom and I want to be home with my kids because I feel God's pleasure in doing exactly what he created me to be.  It has nothing to with Mommy Wars, with what is "better" for my kids.  We are the best versions of ourselves when we find ourselves in our sweet spots.  I do not sacrifice personality traits I once had because I stay home - I am still ambitious and driven, I still value education and the under-served.  I am a reader, a learner, a writer, a dancer, and a baker.  But I get to be those things in a place of worship.  Because for me, being a mom is an act of worship, one that I want to do all day.  It is my worship, not my sole identifier.  

I've gone by many names in my life.  My parents blessed me with Kalika.  That has provided the basis for countless variations.  There's been Klicka and Blingsmith, Mexikalika Rose, and Xanadu.  But the one I love the most is Mama.