Strong Truths for Weak Mamas
Invisible. Isolated. Insufficient. These feelings haunt many of us, and as a new mom, I’ve never felt them more painfully. No one sees me. The only person I consistently talk to can’t talk back to me. I have no absolute idea how to be a parent.
And for the new mom, for the experienced grandmother, for all of us—the gospel speaks to these feelings. Mothers are not invisible (although they may be isolated) and their insufficiencies are for their good. God sees his people and calls them to community. He supplies their every single need.
I vividly remember sitting in seminary when my professor, Dr. John Hannah said, “The Christian life is a life of struggle.” Slightly discouraged as I considered the piles of Greek flashcards to memorize, I thought, “Is this why I’m in seminary, simply to learn how difficult the Christian life is?”
The reality of the gospel story is this: pain precedes glory. Before Jesus resurrected as our glorious King, he went to the cross. Before holding the precious gift of a newborn son or daughter, a mother endures excruciating physical labor. And for all of God’s children in the midst of trial and suffering, he is preparing them for his Kingdom as they wait on him by faith.
The story of redemption traces itself through the life of motherhood. Men and women are designed for multiplication, and this multiplying work happens not only in disciple making, but also in having children. The creation of children is a gift of God—an evidence of his grace and a shadow of his glory.
The brokenness of motherhood traces itself all the way back to Genesis 3. “I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children” (Gen. 3:16). When the Scriptures speak of the pain of childbirth, the undertones of idols of comfort, control, and power prevail. And no matter your particular story of labor, Genesis 3:16 doesn’t simply speak to the physical labor and delivery of children. God hints at the pain of raising children in a fallen world.
It is this brokenness that echoes in today’s culture. From social media posts to podcasts to even articles such as this one, mothers can be prone to compare themselves to other moms, other standards, other methods. There’s one standard: the gospel. The culture screams, “Do more. Be better. You’ve got this.” And most mothers find themselves exhausted, riddled with shame and guilt that comes from the inability to uphold these cultural expectations.
And yet, God writes a better story. He is making all things new. Whether your infant is going through a sleep regression, your toddler won’t eat anything except strawberries, or your teenager remains adamant about more cell phone usage, God doesn’t waste any of these trials. Your pains in motherhood are drenched with purpose.
Our son just turned one. This has been the hardest yet sweetest year of my life. What a heavy and high calling it is to be a mother. Mothers ought to be captured by this reality: you are the only person on the planet who has been called to be your child’s mother. That’s both incredibly specific and daunting.
And yet, just as Eve was tempted by the serpent in Genesis 3, we often find ourselves believing that God is holding out on us as well. Eve did not trust God. Eve was dissatisfied with God. And ultimately, Eve disobeyed God. In the challenges of motherhood, many of us find ourselves in a similar space of distrusting God, being dissatisfied in God, and ultimately disobeying God.
All the more, we are called to remember who God is and what God says. He equips those he calls. So whether you’re sipping on cold coffee while you feed your infant or you’re about to head out the door for the daily carpool shuttle service, here’s a handful of gospel truths to compel you to greater hope in the midst of all the hardships.
Mothers are not invisible to God. In a culture where social media feeds and Tik Tok videos abound, it’s easy to feel unimportant and invisible. Babies are adorable. Everyone wants to see them, but what about their parents? Moms, you’re not invisible. God sees you. He doesn’t look past you as he delights in your children; he delights in seeing you. You are his child.
David writes in Psalm 34:15, “The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous and his ears toward their cry.” God not only sees you, but he hears you. He can both handle your pain and identify with your pain.
I’ve had other moms warn me about people only wanting to see my son rather than wanting to see me. And if I’m honest, it often feels that way. God doesn’t look past me though, and in fact, his eye on me. Psalm 33:18 reminds us of this: “Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love.” Tummy time with babies and help with geometry homework isn’t hidden. Mothers, your work is glorious and seen by the Father.
Mothers have the body of Christ. The felt tensions of community are altogether different in our post-Covid world. Though technology and social media platforms seem to continually increase opportunities for communication and connection, others find themselves never feeling more alone. A quick survey of the New Testament affirms the “one-anothering” of gospel-centered community. The Christian life isn’t intended to be an isolated life.
And yet, getting out of the house with an infant or attending your church’s small group with 14 kids’ activities occurring at the same time doesn’t at all prove to be easy. The Scriptures remind us to fight for community. “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching” (Heb. 10:24–25).
Community isn’t convenient, comfortable, or easy. Many of us would probably always choose to isolate rather than to be deeply known by others. It is in this context of rich, deep community that growth, rest, and encouragement flourish. Change happens in the context of community, so mothers must pursue deep, life-giving, gospel-centered community. And it is in the context of the local church where all Christians grow and flourish in communion with one another.
Mothers, by ourselves, will always be insufficient. I have a coffee cup that says “Strong Mama,” and if I’m honest, there’s often days that I wish it said “Weak Mama.” I’m just not that strong. None of us are. But Peter reminds us that “His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness” (2 Pet. 1:3). The Holy Spirit strengthens, equips, and guides mothers in a way that no latest podcast, parenting book, or popular “mom” Instagram account can.
I’ve only been at this mothering gig for just under four hundred days. I have much to learn. And in all that’s new and challenging as a mom, I’m reminded of the call to rest in Jesus and remember my identity in Christ.
Your role as a mother isn’t based on your best day or your worst day. You’re not invisible. God sees you even though you may be isolated. Pursue community. You’re certainly insufficient, but the Spirit equips you.
The gospel of grace gives a fresh, strong wind for tired, weak mamas. Rest deeply and remember it daily.
Lacey Stevenson is the wife of an entrepreneur, a boy mom, and a teacher of the Bible. She previously served on staff at The Village Church in Dallas, TX and has a ThM from Dallas Theological Seminary. Her writing can be found at The Gospel Coalition, The DTS Magazine, and The Gospel Changes Everything. Lacey and her husband live in Colorado and are planting Ski Town Church. You can also find her at her blog, Purple Goods, Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook.