The Waiting Walk

Dark. Dreary. Ugly. Unloving. Impatient.

Sadness. Anger. Frustration.

Depression.

It was the beginning of a long, dark road for me, a journey that, had I known how long it would last, I may not have seen a reason to continue. It’s a good thing we can’t know these things.

While there are always many factors involved in depression, I knew one thing: I was not the mom I wanted to be. I was not the mom I needed to be. I was not the mom God designed me to be. And it was hard. Hard to admit that, and just hard to parent. Was it really supposed to be this hard?

Why couldn’t I snap out of it? I’d spend a peaceful morning in prayer committing to loving my children well, to doing the kind thing, the loving thing, the right thing. And then I’d leave that quiet space and my actual children would come along and boom, I would lose it. Again. And again.

To be honest, there was no real need for my feelings or my reactions. My children were quite normal. Sweet. Respectful. Often they were doing nothing wrong at all. In fact, often they were doing EXACTLY what I had asked them to do – and yet I would snap at them like a crocodile. Some days I think they would have welcomed a real croc instead of the ugly that poured out of me.

I was withering inside. Why? Why was I doing this? Why was I treating them like this?

Things were getting worse. We arrived at church one Sabbath morning, and I was greeted in the lobby by a dear friend. As we were talking, she remembered something.

“Oh, I had a dream about you last night! I dreamed you and your children were here at the church. I was watching, and you all were right up there, just running around and playing with each other. I saw you interacting with them, and you were SO HAPPY! You all were!”

I nearly choked on the tears. What were the odds of her having just a random dream involving my relationship with my children? Not high, I felt.

No, this was a message from God.

God wanted me to be happy with my children. Not only did He want that for us, but I clung to this dream like a prophecy. He would help it happen.

Right?

But things didn’t get better. They got worse. Much worse. The word toxic was applicable far too often. And my overwhelm at the level of failure I was showing as a mom was just so, so much.

The years were dragging by, and I just knew I was ruining their lives forever.

It was in the midst of these dark days, that I would remember my friend’s dream. And I would wonder if it really was a prophesy, if it was ever going to be possible for me to just HAVE FUN with my children! To just show and feel love towards them. I wanted to so badly… but criticism and impatience was usually the name of my game.

Still, I clung to the hope that this dream that God had cared enough to share with me via a friend, this dream would come true. That I would be SO HAPPY with my children. That the darkness that was pressing down on my soul would lift so I really could play with my kids and enjoy life with them.

Counseling. Prayer. Study. Parenting books. All fell so short. Things were growing darker.

_________________________

I remembered this dream the other day. The other day after I’d spent hours staying up way too late the night before because one of my children just wanted to talk with me about random life things. After I’d spent an afternoon laughing with some of them over something silly and funny. After we’d done some more family-binge-watching of a crazy TV show. After we’d decided to indulge and eat that fun treat we don’t normally have. After I’d spent a quiet morning praising and thanking God that I truly love my children so much, and for what amazing not-so-little-humans they really are.

And I realized – I legitimately like them now too!

Yes, I remembered that dream, and I praised God again. It was a prophesy after all. I was meant for more. We were meant for joy. I look back and I can see God pulling, tugging, pushing, offering time and time again. He was there. He had always been calling to me in the midst of my darkness and pain.

And finally, one day, something snapped, and that was it. I faced the fact that I had indeed been harboring idols in my life, and God had not actually been on center stage for me. It surprised me – I was a committed Christian. It shook me to my core. It’s a shame it sometimes takes the really bad stuff to get our attention. But I determined that day to let God lead, truly lead, in my life, and to put my children above those things that had been sucking the life out of our relationship.

I haven’t looked back.

I can’t promise that a change like that will be instant for you. But it was for me. Sure, old habits die hard, but when darkness is no longer filling your soul, doing the right thing and recognizing the truth becomes so much easier. The apologies can flow out. The course-correct is the obvious next move. Love wins.

I am so far from perfect. And we have some serious scars to deal with. But there is one thing I can now say for sure:

I am SO, SO HAPPY!

And God is so, so faithful. He never gives up. His plans for us are always good.

It feels like I’m living a dream come true!