When I’m being a bad mom, I don’t need the false assurance that I’m doing the best I can. I need the hope that Jesus can cleanse me from my unrighteousness.
I don’t want my kids to grow up thinking they love God, when all they really love is the comfort he provides in their lives. They need to know up front that saving faith transforms us into living sacrifices, and that through sacrifice they’ll find satisfaction in Christ.
Every failure of my mothering has been covered by God’s grace. And this isn’t just my hope for tomorrow, but my children’s hope as well.
Maybe my problem is that my propensity towards sin is a lot more powerful than I care to admit. Maybe adoption education isn’t enough. Maybe I’m just a really weak mom in need of a really strong Savior.