Good Mom Bad Mom

I am a good mom. I am a bad mom.

I’ve never been more desperate to get something right; I wanted to be a good mom. I read every book I could find. I tried to do all the things that good moms should do. I homeschooled, meal-planned, and chore-charted my way to ensuring my children’s health and happiness.

A good mom, in my mind, did it all and did it well without fear, fatigue, or discouragement. A good mom had happy, responsible, obedient, and respectful children who loved each other and Jesus without questioning, arguing, or fighting.

In my mind, I was responsible for creating a peaceful, happy family. Somehow, I took on the role of being the thermostat in our home. I felt pressure to create the perfect birthday cake, the most engaging science lesson, and dinner each night that would miraculously be a favorite for all seven people at the table. Every. Time.

Two lies were at work in my life. First, I believed my role as a mom was my identity, which meant I was only good if my performance was good. Along with that, I believed my role included being responsible for the emotions of others, especially my spouse and kids. These two lies, twisted together deep within me. Believing them kept me constantly exhausted, frustrated, and ashamed because I couldn’t be who I thought I should be.

Identity Vs. Role

“Mom” is not my identity. Being a mom is one of my many roles in this life. The real truth is that I am a good mom and a bad mom. Some days, I do great things as a mom and other days I really blow it. Both are true. I heard someone say this recently, and I felt such freedom when I said it to myself, “I am a good mom. I am a bad mom.”

Of course, I am! I can’t get it right all the time. Victories and failures have both been part of motherhood. Gosh, does that take the pressure off, or what?! My mistakes as a mother don’t define me because “Mom” is not my identity, it’s simply a role in my life. It’s one of the most precious and important roles I play, but it’s not who I am!

My identity is set, secure, unchanging. I am a beloved daughter of God, fully forgiven and fully loved. I was knit together in my mother’s womb on purpose and for a purpose. My worth is determined by the life of Jesus, because He was the price that was paid so that I could be reconciled to God. I am His.

I am a good employee. I am a bad employee. I am a good cook. I am a bad cook. I am a good wife. I am a bad wife. I’m a good driver. I’m a bad driver. I’m a good writer. I’m a bad writer.

It’s so much harder to hear, “I’m a bad mom.” than “I’m a bad driver,” because my role as a mother so much more important to me. The truth is that sometimes I am bad at driving. Unfortunately, there are times when I am also bad at mothering. Even so, I am not defined by how well my children turn out, whatever well means. And no matter how deeply my heart may break watching them struggle, their happiness is not up to me.

For so long, I misunderstood my role as a mom. Like the hero in a movie, guarding a priceless treasure, protecting it from peril and theft, I thought I could guard my children’s hearts.

Regardless of how well I love my children, or anyone, for that matter, I cannot ensure their happiness. I don’t possess that kind of power or control.

When you think about it, you can’t make someone happy. You can influence someone’s emotions, but you can’t make someone happy. I’m sure you have experienced this. I am convinced that there are some people I could never satisfy, no matter what I did or didn’t do.

It’s also true that no matter how badly I love my children, I can’t heal any hurt I cause. As much as I try to make up for my mistakes or apologize, I am not responsible for their healing. Forgiveness and healing are choices we all must make on our own.

For me, this is perhaps the most difficult truth to accept. I desperately want everyone to be okay. Disappointing others is my greatest fear. When someone is sad, angry, or disappointed, it’s somehow my fault and my responsibility to fix it. Take it a step further, and I try to anticipate what might cause those negative emotions. I work incredibly hard to make sure I don’t do anything that would possibly cause sadness, anger or disappointment. Maddening, isn’t it?

I have my reasons for this faulty thinking, ones I am sorting out and untangling. What I see in myself is that when I am desperate to please others, I accommodate them by changing my preferences, my schedule, even my personality. In my effort to people please, I lose myself along the way.

Years ago, I worked through some counseling focused on who I am in Christ. It truly was life-changing. In fact, that’s when I began writing. I began to feel the love and acceptance of God in new ways. Yet, here I am now, learning that despite the truth that I am already loved, accepted, worthy, and secure in Christ, I am still trying to please people.

I am still living moments, days, years often motivated by my fear of disappointing instead of the joy of loving and serving. I am often weighed down by the emotions of others. I don’t share my preference or opinion because I want everyone else to be happy with me. This is difficult to confess. It’s not where I thought this post would go. But it’s the truth.

God is so gracious. Out of his great love for us and his grace, he patiently peels back layers to show us how we can live more as who we truly are. As we surrender, we can walk in more freedom. I’ve already stopped typing to email my sweet counselor for an appointment. Why would I try and process this alone, when there is someone who can help?

What would really help me love my family more deeply is for me to walk in freedom as my true self. It is true that I am a good mom and I am a bad mom. I am a good wife and I am a bad wife. And that’s really okay, because I am God’s girl, fully forgiven and perfectly loved.

My children’s happiness is not dependent on my efforts as their mom. My husband’s happiness is not up to me either. They all have the same opportunity that I do, to live with an audience of one. That one, the creator of my soul, is already delighted with me. He knows I can’t get it all right. He just loves me.

I am weary of fearing conflict and negative emotions, and I’m believing that the truth of God will set me free. I want to serve my family, my friends, and community from a place of joy, not fear.

Jesus, help me do everything out of the overflow of your goodness and grace.

His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, nor his delight in the legs of the warrior; the Lord delights in those who fear him,

who put their hope in his unfailing love. Psalm 147:10-11