Most nights, I get to the end of the day and think about all the things I haven’t done, done well, or done enough of.
Last night, I was talking through some aspects of Eden's bedtime with my husband, what to do or not do. He jokingly said, "Ah, yes, there it is."
"What?" I asked.
"Something to feel guilty about. There it is. So good to get to the end of each day and find where you've failed."
He was being facetious, of course. But he wasn’t wrong.
There it is—the daily falling short.
I don’t think this feeling would be any different if Eden didn’t have special needs. I’m sure every parent feels this to some degree. But sometimes, it does feel a bit magnified. More things to keep up with; more chances to drop the ball.
Did we do enough therapy exercises today? Did I give her enough chances to try solid foods? Did I remember to tape up her thumbs for working on her fine motor skills? Did she wear her glasses long enough? Did we work on our baby sign language? Read enough books? Did she drink enough milk? Did I remember her drops, her probiotics? Did I do enough to nourish her little mind, her growing body, her development?
There’s still a load of her laundry in the dryer. The rest of the house is a mess and I don't have a cheap, easy, healthy meal plan for dinner tonight... yet. 😜
And I know these days of early development feel like wet cement. If I don’t do everything I can now, will the cement harden, and will I wish I had done more?
A few months ago, I was voicing these fears in my prayer group and my friend Julie made such a helpful comment. She has already raised her kids. And she gently reminded me of the Gospel truth:
"You’re not enough for Eden. And you never will be."
When she said that I felt such refreshing relief.
Because the pressure is off. I tend to struggle with wanting to be extremely self-sufficient and self-reliant. I was never meant to be enough for my daughter. This is humbling to my pride. I am so freed by the reality of Sovereign grace upon grace that's allowed me to become her mom.
I think, as parents, we want to believe we have more control than we do. We tell ourselves that if we just follow the right parenting strategy, if we check all the right boxes, if we work hard enough—then our kids will turn out in all the ways we hope they will. And yet, none of us can control the outcomes. Not really.
This isn’t a cop-out to be lazy. This isn’t a que sera sera parenting style where I throw my hands up and stop trying. I still have a very real responsibility to raise Eden well, to love her, nurture her, guide her, give her all the opportunities I can. But I was never meant to carry the weight of her flourishing on my shoulders alone.
And I am free.
Free from trying to be the perfect mom I’ll never be. Free from holding onto the illusion that my striving is what will ultimately shape her life. Free to work hard but also to rest, knowing that grace fills in all the places where I fall short. Jesus' work of redemption and the hope of the restoration He is bringing extends to and impacts this work of parenting He's given me.
I’ll never get to the end of a day and feel like I’ve done it all perfectly, and that’s okay because parenting isn’t about my sufficiency—it’s about Christ’s. He knew I would fall short and never be enough when He gave us our Eden. He knew about the added layer of caring for her special needs. He wants to grow my dependence on Him and delights in giving me what I need to be her mom.
But what does this look like practically?
At the start of the mornings, my heart needs to say, “Jesus, I’m not enough for Eden today, but You knew that when You gave her to me. You don't want me to parent her from a place of self-sufficient striving to get it all right, but from a place of dependent worship that trusts and looks to You to give me what I am going to need to do this job well. Today getting to be a stay-at-home mom caring for Eden is my offering that I get to lay at your feet. Feeding her, doing therapy exercises and appointments, naps, playtimes, reading her books- this is part of my worship to You. I can't do this without You. I need You to give me everything I need to care for her well. I want to trust You with her life and future. Thank you that you are and will continue to be working in her life beyond what I can see. Her future is in Your hands, Jesus."
I'm slowly learning to keep this conversation and dependence going throughout the day. Honestly, this looks like a lot of moments of picking back up my self-reliance because it's so ingrained for me, and then remembering the invitation to run back to Jesus again to let Him take care of us.
"Jesus, I don't know how to get Eden to drink her bottles or why she is refluxing so much today. I need help." And I don't know how to explain it, but He does. Lots of days there's no other explanation but that we prayed and she drank her fill.
"Jesus, I need joy and energy. I just want to check out right now and scroll on my phone. I need You to help me be all here to work on Eden's therapy exercises." There is grace to refocus in this confession.
"Jesus, I need help figuring out more about FPIES allergy. What solids should we try next?" I'm seeing again and again in lots of realms of life how He is such an amazing networker of connections. He orchestrates things like how this person knows a person who has a kid with that too and I could get coffee with them. And dig deeper into this trail of research, and this resource....
"Jesus, I'm worried about _______ with Eden's future and development. I want to talk to you about it...." I could make a list, but it would be really long, of so many ways He is providing resources and encouragement and giving us what we need to very specifically address concerns.
There is joy in the intimacy of connection throughout the days.
I can pour my life out one day at a time for my daughter, and any other kids God may bless us with in the future, without feeling defeated and guilty for falling short. I get to do all of these things with and for Eden because God has graciously entrusted her to us- not because I have to be the perfect mom. He already knew I wasn't a perfect mom when He blessed me with this sacred work. Knowing that He is ultimately responsible for her heart and future, that He loves her even more than we do and has good plans for her life, frees me to parent with joy instead of feeling the guilty weight of falling short.
I'm starting to understand on more of a heart level than a theological assent that this journey of motherhood needs to be viewed similarly to past chapters of ministry life. There's nothing about this assignment that I see now or will look back on one day that I can really boast in about her development or success. When Eden is grown, my only boast will be in what Jesus did through me in parenting her. Getting to be Eden's mom is my invitation to closeness with Jesus. I'm invited to get to do my days with Him as I steward this gift of parenting her. Our strong and good Shepherd chose this setting for all of us. And He is using Eden to grow and shape me and my husband into more of who He created us to be.
“He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom and gently lead those that are with young.” —Isaiah 40:11
By laying Eden’s development and future at Jesus’ feet, I’m declaring that my hope is not in my sufficiency but in God’s. Everything, including the outcome of her life, is ultimately in His hands, not mine.
So I’ll keep doing what I can. I’ll keep showing up, loving her, giving her what I have. But at the end of the day, I’ll remember—I am not enough for her. And that’s the best news.
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