I , like many other woman metamorphosed into Momma bears from my child’s birth with a fierce hormonally induced drive to protect my cub. Oh how I longed for super ability to watch his every breathe as an infant. Now I wish to bubble wrap my toddler to avoid all his bumps and bruises. A solid walker and aggressive climber my adventurous one and a half year old literally dove head first off our couch the other evening (a few tears and cuddles and he recuperated by jumping on our ottoman). Real momma bears, though, teach their cubs how to gather food and growl. In sheltering my son from suffering do I stifle his ability to survive?
2020: year of suffering, shows how out of control we really are. From a pandemic disrupting our sense of security, to social and political unrest in our Nation, Instability defines our existence and I just sigh looking at my blessed ignorant smiling little one. A podcast I listened to featuring an psychologist relayed that the statement, “there is a reason for everything. God has a plan” as “toxic positivity.” Though this platitude has been abused as a way to dismiss real pain, the essence is true. Pain has a purpose. Suffering shapes the soul, so must not be shunned. My literally walk in my neighborhood talk with my actual neighbors over these stay-at-home regulations illustrates this truth.
The Gift of quarantine, a chance to love my neighbors.
Gift of grief: A neighbor shared the lost of his father so quickly to a severe type of cancer. I with the fresh lost of my sister cutting at my heart, bleed with empathy. I offered reassuring words of the delicate dance between happiness and sorrow in the waltz with grief. The membership to the grief club feels too costly, but the deep gift of sharing sorrow and hope lightens the insurmountable debt a little.
Gift of Maternity: A pregnant neighbor and I briefly chatted about the challenges of first time birth and motherhood. The fears of labor pain, and not having enough support when at home dominated our discussion. She shared how, like me, she is the first of her close friends to start her family, and how her parents and in-laws are not local. Immediately, my heart connected to hers and I became determined to serve this new momma the way my parents and in-law so graciously supported me and our son. Nothing is more soothing then a calm comrade in arms to quell the firstborn challenges with breastfeeding questions, tears and blow-out diaper stories.
Gift of Motherhood Identity: Another momma neighbor shared her lost of herself, how she wakes up dreading each day because her daughter is going through a clinging stage. With various family members who’ve suffered with mental health issues, myself with anxiety since childhood, I felt such as keen concern for my neighbor’s mental health. To be in a funk with a toddler, a not an okay vibe. So I reassured her that her situational warranted sadness and we talked about shifting towards healthy separation, new job or passionate project, perhaps. Regardless, my own mental health battles provided tools to add to her aerosol- the hard earned battle gear from my own internal war. Peace must be fought for, in self-care and self-giving motherhood.
So grateful for the pain of hard events: birth, child rearing, soul-searching and grieving, that allows such a deep empathy to authenticity and sincerely love my neighbors like never before. In our weakness He is strong (2 Corinthians 12:9). So I surrender to suffering, though I don’t seek it. This momma bear strives to teach her cub how to survive, for “in this life you will have suffering, but take heart I have overcome the world.” -John 16:33
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