When my mom turned 80, my two sisters and I surprised her with a girl’s trip to Nashville. My mom has more energy and zest for life than most twenty year-olds, so we worked hard to keep up with her all weekend. We booked the sweetest little house in downtown Franklin and hit as many attractions as three days would allow.

On our final night in Nashville, we made the last-minute decision to cancel our upscale dinner reservations for a relaxing night at home. We picked up a few pizzas, a bottle of wine, and the best cupcakes you ever did have from Ivey Cake. We put on our pajamas, lit a few candles, and let laughter fill the house.

This night ended up being the highlight of our trip, as mom shared stories we’d never heard from her growing up years, as well as the lessons she learned, the mistakes she made, and the obstacles she overcame as a wife and mother. She spoke about forgiveness and grace and sacrifice and love.

MOTHER'S DAY SHOULD BE THE BIGGEST DAY OF THE YEAR

When she reflected on her years as a mother raising three daughters, she said something profoundly beautiful. With a humility that is familiar to my sisters and me, she said “You know, I never really felt the pressure to make a big splash in the world or to make a big name for myself outside our home. I loved being your mom.”

In other words, she didn't need to be famous in the world because she was famous at home, and that was enough. She loved her family and the people God put in her path while she also worked as an elementary school teacher and served alongside my dad who was a preacher at a large church. She followed the advice of Mother Theresa, who said, “If you want to change the world go home and love your family.” And in doing so, my mom ultimately impacted countless lives in a million unseen ways.

If my mom taught me anything on her birthday weekend, it’s that love does indeed cover a multitude of mistakes

My mom also reflected on the many mistakes she made as a parent. She remembered letting her voice get too loud and her frustration get too big. She remembered dumb decisions she made around discipline and words she wished she could take back. All these years later, those memories still bring tears to her eyes, not from a place of guilt, because she knows she’s forgiven, but simply from a place of wishing she had done some things differently.

But the irony is this: I don't remember all those mistakes my mom remembers so well. When I look back I just mostly remember that I always felt loved and I always knew she loved being my mom, even when I got it wrong.

She was a source of extraordinary love, but not just human love. Perfect love. The love of the Father. When my teen years brought her to daily tears and my hormone-induced words cut sharp as a knife, she loved me at my worst. She didn’t withdraw and cut me off. She only came closer, like Jesus does with us when we rebel. She didn’t shame me for my stupid choices, and now that I think of it, I realize she was only capable of that because she didn’t find her significance in my success or failure. I never carried the weight of being perfect for the sake of her self-worth.

She was simply committed to loving like Jesus, and pointing me to His grace. And when she got it wrong, she was always quick to say I’m sorry, which showed me the freedom we have in knowing we are forgiven by our Father. In essence, she gave me a great gift in her imperfection, because she used it to point me to the perfection of Jesus — the only One would has never, and would never, let me down.

I don’t share all this with you to put my mom on a pedestal. I share it because I think we mamas can be so hard on ourselves. We beat ourselves up and believe the lie that everyone else is doing a better job. I know I do. With four boys who range from three to fourteen, I feel the magnitude of my influence on my children. I can worry that I’m not doing enough or I’m doing too much. I can fear the impact my weaknesses will have on my kids.

But listening to my mom reflect on how she raised us reminded me of that thing I evidently have to keep learning over and over again: God can be counted on to work through my weaknesses. His grace is enough. And I can trust God with the children He has entrusted to me, as I seek to raise them for His glory, not mine.

We can find a lot of relief in giving ourselves permission to acknowledge that motherhood is hard. It’s glorious, but it’s hard. And it’s meant to stretch us and shape us and show us our need for a strength that will only come from a deeper dependence on God.

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Motherhood requires an abundance of supernatural resources that only God can provide. And the best news is, God will provide what we can’t. Yes, He is their perfect parent, and we are free to love them extravagantly but not carry the burden of trying to parent them perfectly.

Because as many mistakes as my husband and I make, and trust me when I tell you we make a lot of them, we work hard to let love live loud in our house. Just ask our neighbors! And if my mom taught me anything on her birthday weekend, it’s that love does indeed cover a multitude of mistakes (1 Peter 4:8).

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