The Shape of Motherhood in the Grip of God
By Tricia Goyer|Published Date: September 09, 2009
I never thought I could meet God here. In my home. In my mess. In the midst of my ordinary suburban life.
To me, God was someone you met at church or connected with at weekly Bible study. I knew deep down it was possible to have mountaintop moments, but I believed they came during week long spiritual retreats, hourlong morning Quiet Times, and a once-a-year women’s conference.
Instead, I found God in surprising places. I found Him as I sat on the couch cuddling with my three- year- old and reading Goodnight Moon for the 2,345th time. He spoke to me as I made dinner and even as I stuffed laundry into rickety dresser drawers.
I heard Him in the midst of my untidy, desperately-in-need-of-a-reorg life. I found God, experienced Him…well…while mixing Kool-Aid and playing with play dough.
And it’s a good thing God allowed Himself to be found there, because as a mom my opportunities for solitude, contemplation, and three hymns and a prayer are few and far between.
I used to think the ones who knew God best were nuns and monks who lived high in the hills. I imagined it must be hard for such people to separate themselves and to give up so much. What they had, I believed, was true devotion and an ultimate connection with God. Everyone else—those of us who lived ordinary lives—missed out. Well, I don’t think that anymore.