I read an article recently… Maybe it wasn’t that recent? Anyway, I read an article at some point in the past that talked about how becoming a mom is largely about “making room”.  It was a sweet article and focused primarily on the sweeter aspects of motherhood, or maybe it just framed it all in a sweet way.

I’ve also read a lot of things lately that talk about the tension between self-care and self sacrifice as a mother. Of course the things I read don’t actually say that’s what they’re about. The commenters on the Facebook posts don’t explicitly state that they are either fighting for themselves, their children, or the truth with their comments. “Parents who put their kids to bed early to get some ‘me time’ are utterly selfish!” “Parents who  keep their kids up late are not being good parents because they’re not putting their kids needs before the needs of everyone else!” (And shades of subtlety in between.)  The joking Memes about how mothers don’t have time to shower or that they’re hiding from their kids all the time don’t state their motives either, and they don’t have to.

The truth is, it’s not just motherhood that prompts us to “make room”. What the author of that article so sweetly described is what it means to love — to truly love — anybody.

If you truly love your husband, you will see the state of the bathroom sink in the morning (hair, hair, everywhere) and still kiss him goodbye as he leaves for work. You will receive his imperfect self, his imperfect responses when you have it in your head exactly what the “right answer” is, and you will forgive the hurt of disappointment — not always because he deserves it (although many times he does), but because you are making room for him to be his doesn’t-think-like-you-do self.

If you love your friends, you will make room for them challenge you. You’ll make room in your heart for them to impact you and bless you.

If you love your children, you will make room in your schedule for their particular needs. You’ll make room in the midnight hours for them to cry out with a fever. You make room in ways that no other human will ask you to make room — rearranging your house, your budget, your priorities.

And as you make room, you realize that eventually you have to surrender the walls that surround your heart, because they take up too much room for the amount of space you need.

I’ve been reading all these things lately that show me how a parent, a mother, can embrace what God is trying to do or reject it.

No other human being will ask you to give as much of yourself as your children. But God asks for even more. He will rearrange your entire life. He will ask you to stay up late, get up early, give when you think you don’t have the money, time, or energy. He will turn your priorities on their head. He will turn grey to black-and-white, and things that used to seem clear will gain complexity you can no longer explain.

In all things, God will challenge your attempts to fill your heart with lesser things.

People talk about how motherhood is a sacred calling. This role gets elevated and with that comes the errors of sainthood and martyrdom. Being a mother is extremely rewarding. I feel as though my slightest efforts are met with showers of grace. I don’t wonder for long if I’m on the right track; while I always feel like the long road ahead is like a tunnel barely lit, the next step (once I take that step in faith) is bathed in light.

But I cannot make the mistake of thinking that motherhood is unique. It is tempting to feel like the relationship I have with my kids is more rewarding than others. The truth is, the only reason it may feel that way is because the enormity of the responsibility draws me to seek God in the midst of it, in a way I have not let another relationship do.

Marriage can be that crucible for some. I’ve let marriage refine me to a degree. However, nothing has humbled me more than my children, and I think the majority experience motherhood in this way.

The complete irony of gospel living is that the things that humble us are the things that we end up holding most dear. The things that push the limits of our hearts’ capacity and challenge our (perceived) authority are what bring us back to our right place in this universe: on our knees, open-handed, and empty.

. . . Are you willing to make room?