Relying on God's Strength

“I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13

It is day three of my going at this “mother of two” thing on my own. The husband returned to work on Monday. While I couldn’t ask for better circumstances (a son who can play quite independently, and a newborn who, so far, exhibits minimal crying), taking care of two has posed some new challenges.

I consider myself a rather patient person. When I just had Nathaniel to take care of, while he may have disobeyed me from time to time, whined here and there, and taken lifetimes to finish his meals—for the most part, I could deal with all that without losing my patience. With two, I have discovered, it is quite a different story.

You see, it is easy to have patience when you have time. These days, however, I have found myself raising my voice more often with Nathaniel, and feeling irritated by his dawdling (which, not too long ago, I found endearing). Much of the time, I catch myself in the act and I quickly try to regain my composure. As if being taken out of a trance, I smile at him or hug him or kiss him. I’ve been trying harder to make Nathaniel feel like “nothing much has changed.” For the past two years, day after day, it has been just he and I. Days of taking care of one is like going out to fine dining: you have all the time in the world to savour the gourmet food; with two, however, it has become more like going out for fast food—just when I’m done taking care of one child, I have to zip ahead and take care of the other.

There is only one point of the day, if I am fortunate, when I have some down time. When the two go down for their naps. If Jenuine was particularly demanding the night before, this time is for me to lie down and refuel before the two wake up and I have to go at it all over again. What I hope for, even in these initial weeks, is that I get just enough sleep the night before that I can use this time for more productive activities other than sleeping.

I have two big fears right now. First, as a new mother the second time around, I have this fear that I might squander the few free moments that I do have. I desperately do not want to. In fact, I’ve been praying hard that I don’t. I want to use my time well. I want to use my time for God. But it is so easy— so easy—not to. My second fear is related to the first. I don’t just want to be a mother or wife that just goes through the motions, fulfilling my obligatory tasks day after day. I want to be the mother that God wants me to be. I want to be able delight in my children when I need to, tend to their needs as I ought to, and discipline them when I must. But it is challenging to keep all these things in balance. One sleepless night, one cup of milk that smashes to the floor, one child being excessively whiny, and I can be off-balance again.

Which is why my second fear is tied to my first. I have to spend time with God, or rather, I need to spend time with God. I have to cease everything and do that—otherwise, I risk everything going off-kilter. The threat is very subtle, but it’s there. My response to my present fears, I realize, must therefore be an active one, not passive.

I’ve been re-reading D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones’s Spiritual Depression. In these quiet moments when the children are asleep, I find myself thirsting to be empowered. I skim through the books lining my bookshelves, and I am eager to find a book that’ll just “hit the spot”—that’ll lift me up so I can carry on from day to day, making each day matter in the grander scheme of things.

You see, with two children, I very often now see my life flashing before me. All I have to do is picture Nathaniel in high school, or Jenuine on her wedding day (God willing), and all of a sudden, I’m near the end of my life. And that’s when the apprehension stirs: I don’t want to get to that day and wonder to myself—as a mother and wife, what have I done with all that time? Did I make that time matter? Did I genuinely and wholeheartedly offer my entire and best self upon God’s altar so that His glory could be manifest? The thing is—His glory is not simply seen in the big and obvious things—it is found in the every day, starting from the children’s newborn days, minute after minute, hour after hour, year after year, until God decides that my job is done. And that, indeed, requires all the prayer I can muster.

An excerpt I read in Jones today was this:

The Christian life after all is a life, it is a power, it is an activity. That is the thing we so constantly tend to forget. It is not just a philosophy, it is not just a point of view, it is not just a teaching that we take up and try to put into practice. It is all that, but it is something infinitely more. The very essence of the Christian life, according to the New Testament teaching everywhere, is that it is a mighty power that enters into us; it is a life, if you like, that is pulsating in us. It is an activity, and an activity on the part of God.

I really like the analogy Jones gives in this particular sermon concerning an error that we Christians often make. He likens our situation to ways in which we seek to improve our health. The wrong way is to spend all our time and money going from spa to spa, treatment to treatment, physician to physician. We end up never getting well. The error is that we have forgotten the law of first principles. What we ought to be doing is eating better and exercising more. “Health is something that results from right living”—and this is the same for the “question of power in our Christian lives… In addition to our prayer for power and ability we must obey certain primary rules and laws…” We must go to Christ. We must spend our time with Him, meditate on Him, get to know Him. We must avoid what would rob us from all of that—just as we would from those things which rob us of our health.

Jones provides his own translation of Philippians 4:13: “I am strong for all things in the One who constantly infuses strength into me.” I like the word “infuse,” because that is precisely what I am thirsting for. That surge, that flood, that infusion of God’s power that enables me as a mother and wife to not simply go through the motions of such roles but to do it with the power of God pulsating in me.