Babies. Time. Gravity. Busyness. Injuries. Disease. There are so many ways and events that can fester a special kind of dissatisfaction with our bodies. As mamas, we know the power and strength that is inside of us- that created, nourished, and cultivated life, then pushed it out into the world. We know the purpose behind these bodies, but more often than not, as the battle scars of life begin to tatter our flesh, we can question our very worth and purpose.

We battle our stretch marks. We battle the extra pounds. We battle the cellulite, the sagging jaw line, and the embedded lines that show we’ve expressed joy daily. The world tells us that these signs of life are undesirable and less than beautiful. The message to these generations is that as we grow in wisdom, virtue, experience, and strength, we are now less than we once were because we wear the battle scars of a life filled with living.

Despite what the magazines on the rack say, the Book I look to says differently. The Book I look to says that my body is sacred, chosen, strengthened, and redeemed. The only Word that matters says that I house the Spirit of the living God inside these dimpled thighs and amongst all those wayward hairs.

We all have unbelief- sometimes in ourselves, in our spouse, in a child... All to varying degrees. We aren't born believers, unfortunately. God must pursue our hearts until we willingly submit to him and lay our lives at the foot of the cross. 

When the root of unbelief is in our own hearts, we need only cry out to God in earnest desire to fully believe. As the father of the sick child in Mark 9:24 cries out to Jesus, "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!" so too can we cry out, and he will surely answer. 

The more challenging aspect can be when we live with a loved one who is shrouded in unbelief. We don't have control over that situation at all. We desperately WANT to. We see with clear, unveiled eyes every single lie that our husband or child believes, the Biblical wisdom they lack that could bring them so much freedom, and the burden that their own unbelief places on them. 

My personal experience is with an unbelieving husband, so that's where I'm speaking to specifically. My childhood sweetheart and I married 16 years ago as unbelievers.

You're a good mom. And I should know- I'm a good mom too, so I'm qualified to judge. 

Here's how I know that we are both good moms: 

• I've yelled at my kids. 

• I've criticized them. 

• I can be impatient and distracted.

• I've overexpected. 

• I've underestimated. 

• I've failed to discipline them. 

• I've disciplined them too rashly. 

• I've packed up and left them for a whole weekend because I needed a break so badly. 

• I've wondered what in the world I was thinking to have had so many. 

• I've failed to know one of them had learning disabilities and criticized her for her "disobedience and laziness."

I've also felt shame, self-hatred, condemnation, overwhelming guilt, and humiliation over every single one of those things. If you can fail in some way as a parent- I've done it.