Me vs. Her

Posted on August 26, 2009 12:00 AM MST by Sara Richardson

“Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved  children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”  Ephesians 5:1-2

I found a picture the other day. Of my husband and I on our honeymoon in Banff National Park. The scene gripped me. We were standing in front of Lake Moraine, the bluest lake I’d ever seen, surrounded by rugged mountain pyramids adorned with white glaciers. The grandeur behind us amazed me all over again, but even more amazing were those two people in the picture.

I held it up in the light. Looked closer. That was us??

The carefree blonde seemed to smile and wink, her joyful expression beckoning me back eight years.

I was the adventurer. The free spirit. The spontaneous explorer. We loved spending time outdoors. Whitewater rafting? Sure! Mountain climbing? No problem! Ten mile hike? We could have it done before lunch.

I was always one of those poor ignorant souls who believed that having kids wouldn’t change our lives much. Sure, most parents seemed to cling to their strict schedule, but we’d be different. Our kids would be easy going and flexible. Just like us.

Forty-eight hours after our first son was born I realized, with some sense of panic, that I’d been mistaken. And I realized another thing. The old Sara was gone. Forever. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I liked the new Sara. Suddenly I feared everything. Is the baby breathing? How come he’s not eating every two hours like he’s supposed to? Is that flaky skin on his head normal? Evidentially the childbirth process instantly transformed me into the fussing mother I vowed I would never become.

As I waded through the diapers, the spit up, the ruined onesies, I started to ease into my new life, and I quickly recognized how self absorbed I’d been before becoming a mother. How judgmental. I may have been a thrill seeker, but I had no clue how to love.

Please hear me. I’m not saying that everyone must have a baby in order to learn how to love. But God knew I did. I loved my husband, my family, my friends, but that was easy because they’ve always loved me back. For the first few weeks of my son’s life, he couldn’t give me anything in return. I would hug him and cuddle him, watch him for hours, feed him every three hours all night long, all without a second glance from him. And yet, I was (still am) so in love with him, it didn’t matter.

Don’t get me wrong. The transition wasn’t easy. There were definitely times when I felt my old self fighting to come back. Plenty of times I just wanted to have the ability to drop everything and run to the grocery store without toting along a small suitcase and a baby car seat that didn’t weigh only five pounds like the box said.

I often got frustrated when my work was interrupted by crying. I was completely exhausted. But each of those things taught me about sacrificial love. The kind of love where you give of yourself knowing you won’t be rewarded, or even appreciated. The kind of love that had been offered to me.

Way back when I may have had fewer wrinkles. I may have been a few sizes smaller. (I’ll get back there someday.) I may have gotten a lot more work done. But I love this new Sara that God is molding and shaping through the joys and heartaches of motherhood. I still battle the old me sometimes. The selfishness. The impatience. But I’ll never be the same Sara that I saw in that picture. And honestly, I wouldn’t want to be.

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