This blog post is part of a series of posts reflecting on 2023 and inviting us all to consider the story God continues to write in our lives each day. See all the posts in this series here.
“That looks pretty natural on you,” a friend commented as I wandered my way through the arena at a volleyball game holding hands with a 3-year old, carrying a 1-year old on my hip, with a teenager wandering behind.
I’ve often dreamed of being a mother, though my story has yet to include that reality in the ways we typically think. Instead of meeting a great guy, getting married, and settling in with a few kids, “mothering” has involved a variety of other opportunities: spoiling my nieces, the invitation to be godmother to 8 precious kids, being part of the “village” it takes for my friends to raise their own children, hosting a foreign exchange student a few years back, and at times, being “mom” to the 1200 college students that I interact with at work.
This fall I also had the honor of welcoming a teenager into my home for a few months. I did not become her mom, she already has one of those, but as her temporary guardian for a while, God found yet another unique way to write “mother” into my story that I could not have imagined. While her family’s story is not mine to share, I hope that my “yes” to God’s call gave her a soft place to land for a while along with many of her eight siblings that found their way in and out of our home for a few days at a time.
The weekend after she and her siblings returned home, I found myself reflecting as I put away the bibs, baby spoons, and toddler cups and changed her room back into a guest room. In that moment, my theme for the year came back to mind, “This is my story.”
I laughed out loud. Wow. What a story. Back in January I truly could have never imagined walking into church on a Sunday morning in September and coming home with a kid for the foreseeable future. Yet, as I mentioned in my first post of this series, God knew. He knew all along. He knew how our stories would intertwine for a little while. He knew what that season would teach me, how it would grow me.
We laughed together. We cried too. We struggled through hard days and delighted in beautiful moments. We cheered on Concordia volleyball, ate homemade breakfast pizza on weekends, and played a lot of SkipBo. (For real, I think I played more board and card games in those 10 weeks than the rest of my life combined so far; it was over 250 games.) We each shared our dreams and our highs and lows each day. We disagreed. We were honest even when it was hard. We had sweet moments and less-than-sweet ones that were pretty typical for a teenager interacting with adults. We listened to her favorite song so much on our trips back and forth to Lincoln that it came up as #2 in my Spotify year in review earlier this month.
Here is something I shared with some friends about what God taught me about Himself during that temporary season of unexpected motherhood. Some of it was related to things I was learning interacting with her while other parts connected more with other things happening during those same months:
I’m learning so much about the heart of God–how He invites us into abundant life, but won’t force it on us. He’s patient. He gives us a soft place to land when maybe we feel we need to try things in our own way. He is steady in a chaotic world. He stays constant when we run back to what’s familiar even if He knows it’s not the best (and sometimes even when we know it’s not what’s best.) He remains ready and wiling to heal and love and listen and care again and again and again. He is here. He remains. He steadies and sustains.
It’s still unclear what role I may or may not continue to play in that young women’s life, but it brings my mom-heart comfort to know that just like He’s writing my story, He’s writing hers too. Truly, what an honor it was to do this chapter together.
bekahfreed.com 