a woman who believed.

I meant to send you this letter yesterday, but a sick kid, groceries, and a million other things took priority as the day went on. Part of me was frustrated, but another part of me—a part that is growing stronger and wiser every day—couldn’t help but laugh: isn’t this exactly what I was writing my newsletter about anyway? 

As JJ Heller says in her song, “Motherhood:” It’s not what you expected, but it’s better than you dreamed. Motherhood—so hard, so good.

Lately, the weight of parenting has been heavy on my shoulders. How am I supposed to raise my children when I’m still growing up myself? Who decided this was a good idea? It’s hard not to wake up every morning and think to myself, Okay, who are we messing up today? 

Those discouraging thoughts followed me to the Mesa Temple on Wednesday. My mind was preoccupied with my inadequacies, overfocused on my weaknesses as a mother, replaying the things I struggle with on an endless loop. But the Lord heard my thoughts and directed them in another direction like the miracle worker He is. 

I sat in an area of the temple I don’t normally spend a lot of time in, and hanging on the wall was a beautiful painting of Mary and Joseph traveling to Bethlehem. I’m sure you can picture the scene: Joseph leading the donkey by a rope with Mary behind him, hanging on for dear life. 

As I sat there looking at that picture of Mary, the mother of Jesus, clutching the donkey's side as she traveled to the place where her life would change forever, I couldn’t help but think about what came after. 

Mary became a new mom: tired, worn out, and hopelessly in love with this tiny little human in her arms. Only in her situation, Mary’s newborn baby just so happened to be the Son of God. I wondered if she felt the same pressures that I do. I wondered if she ever felt afraid. And then I had to laugh because who am I kidding? Of course, she felt pressure. If I question myself while raising my own children, just imagine how Mary felt raising the Savior of the world. 

I felt prompted to open a Bible right then and read, so I flipped to the familiar story in Luke, pausing to read each thing Mary had said. 

The moment the angel appeared and told her the shocking news that she would conceive and bear not just a child, but the Son of the Highest, Mary was “troubled at his saying” (Luke 1:29). In the Bible translation, The Message, it says, “She was thoroughly shaken, wondering what was behind a greeting like that.” 

But God knew what kind of reassurance she needed in that moment, so the next words out of the angel’s mouth? “Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor with God.” 

Followed by this truth: “For with God nothing shall be impossible.” 

 As I read those words in the temple on Wednesday morning, my mind turned to a quote I’d recently heard: “God didn’t call you, save you, and set you apart so that you could live in dreaded anxiety every day.” 

Oof. That one hits hard, doesn’t it?

I want to be like Mary, who, after feeling fear and confusion, chose to believe in a God who does impossible things. I want to believe that because I have been called and set apart to raise my three girls, I will be led by the One who called me. I want to believe that I have found favor with God just by waking up every morning and trying again.

I just want to believe. 

I can’t even imagine the amount of pressure Mary felt as she took care of the Son of God. She was a regular human, just like all of us, and I personally don’t believe she was immune to doubt or discouragement. In fact, I’m sure it was a regular part of her life as watched her son grow. 

I’m sure she battled through the same questions we all do; the questions that never seem to have answers: 

Am I doing enough?

Am I getting this right?

Notice how God didn’t choose to send His Son down to earth as a fully grown man, ready to save the day. He sent His Son as a helpless child who needed the tender care of a regular woman. A woman who feared, a woman who questioned. A woman who struggled with the sacredness of motherhood. 

But a woman who tried her best. A woman who believed. 

As Mary grew in her calling, so did her belief in God and her belief in herself. I love in Luke 1 (The Message) how she sings out in song, crying, 

“I’m bursting with God-news; I’m dancing the song of my Savior God.

God took one good look at me, and look what happened—

I’m the most fortunate woman on earth!” 

What if we started each day with the belief that God took one good look at us and liked what He saw? What if that was the song we chose to sing every day rather than rattling off the endless list of our shortcomings to the same old boring tune?

Now that’s a song I want to get stuck in my head. Mary’s song. A mother’s song. 

The good news is that we’re not enough, but we were never supposed to be. Everything’s going exactly as planned. We’re supposed to be messy and scatterbrained and tired and searching and longing and questioning. Why? Because it brings us to our knees and reminds us who’s really in charge. We’re not supposed to get it right—we’re supposed to believe in the One who does.

For with God, nothing shall be impossible.

Motherhood—so hard. So good.