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I See You, Mama

Monday, April 11, 2022 @ 12:34 PM I See You, Mama ATTENTION: Major social media outlets are finding ways to block the conservative/evangelical viewpoint. Click here for daily electronic delivery of The Stand's Daily Digest - the day's top blogs from AFA.

Lauren Bragg Stand Writer MORE

I see you, mama.

You woke up this morning to what was left of last night’s dinner, dirty plates and half-empty cups lingering around the kitchen counter. A messy reminder of how tired you were before you were able to finally melt into the bed. Piles of laundry that have been haunting you for what feels like weeks, but you just can’t muster up the motivation.

Feeling whatever in the world is on the floor stick to the bottom of your feet while you warm up the frozen waffles with one eye half-open.

The baby fought his 9 AM nap like an angry, rolling crocodile before eventually conceding in a blaze of overtired tears and not so much glory. Leaving you drained of what little energy was leftover from the cold cup of coffee you had between work calls and diaper changes.

And it’s not even noon. How?

Your week-old hair reeks of syrup and dry shampoo. *Sniff sniff* is this the same shirt I’ve had on since Saturday? Absolutely. What gave it away? The snot stains or the remnants of dried spaghetti sauce from Monday’s lunch? No, Tuesday’s? Your teeth feel fuzzy because every time you start walking towards the bathroom to brush them your toddler threatens to jump off the back of the couch.


The phantom rings of your phone signal friendships that have become the quiet casualties of utter exhaustion and nap schedules. Everyone wanted to come see the new baby, but no one seems to be busting down your door fourteen months later.

And that’s okay. It gets lonely, but, hey, you get it.

Because if you’re like me, you’re twenty-something which means that half of your friends are busy having babies of their own and keeping their own marriages thriving and afloat, while the others are still in school, barely know how to run a dishwasher, and don’t know to reach out and make sure you’re still breathing.

It’s a weird time.

And you wouldn’t trade the sweetness of this season with your tiny babies for anything, and not every single moment feels like this, but sometimes the cross gets really heavy, especially feeling like you’re carrying it alone.

And this isn’t to discredit our dads and husbands, but my husband is a police officer so the time we get together in a week is precious and I try and make sure he doesn’t see the ugly parts as much as possible because he sees enough ugliness at work.

Spoiler alert: He does see the ugly parts and the way he picks them up and dusts them off and loves them back to beauty is, well … beautiful. But my point in saying all of this, mama-to-mama, is that I just want you to know that I see you.

If no one else has told you this week, you are doing a really good job. Come out from underneath the lies that you are a burden.

I know you’re tired. I see it in your eyes. I feel it in my own bones. But the way you push through and make sure that the one childhood your babies get is one to remember is something to be proud of.

The prayers you cry into your sleeping little one’s hair at night are heard by a good Father. He hears you and oh, He loves the way you love your babies. It reminds Him of the way He loves you.

Without merit or condition.

Your babies are covered, mama. They are safe under the protection of the One who loves them more than even you could fathom. So tonight, after the laundry is done (or maybe it isn’t), and the tiny people are fast asleep: wash your face, brush your fuzzy teeth. Climb into bed and into the peace that was blood-bought for you. Breathe deep. Close your eyes.

Tomorrow’s mercies are new, and they are for your taking.

I just wanted you to know that I see you, mama. 

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