Raising Image Bearers

I used to hold onto everything as tightly as I could–material possessions, places, talents, jobs, relationships. I attempted to maintain control, terrified I might let something slip through the cracks.

I strove for perfection and grieved each and every change, failure, and loss as a sign of my own powerlessness.

Then, as I became a wife and mother, I watched early onset Alzheimer’s disease take my mother from me in slow motion. For years, I continued to fight God for control through her decline. By the time she died, I’d learned that nothing I have actually belongs to me.

My loved ones, my possessions, my gifts, and my time on this Earth are all the Lord’s, to grant as he sees fit. I understand this now, and yet as a mother I find it especially hard to accept that my own children are on loan.

How can it be that my two beautiful little girls, who grew inside my body, are not mine to keep? I know that they belong to a heavenly Father who loves and provides for them in ways I could never imagine. He has only entrusted them to me for nurturing, discipline, and instruction for a short time.

I wonder how I would have responded if I had been in Jesus’ mother Mary’s shoes. (Talk about your child not actually belonging to you!)

When an angel of the Lord appeared and explained God’s plan for the immaculate conception of the Savior of the world within her womb, Mary’s response was: “I am a servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38 ESV).

Mary didn’t panic. She didn’t fall over in shock. She didn’t argue.

Instead, she responded in humility and obedience. She expressed deep gratitude for the role God had given her in his story:

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.” (Luke 1:46-50)

Every time I read this passage in Luke, I brace for impact.

I see the grief and anguish Mary is going to endure down the road, when God’s plan is fulfilled and Jesus is crucified right in front of her. My heart breaks for Mary, because she ultimately watches her own flesh and blood suffer and die publicly, for crimes he didn’t commit, while she stands there, powerless to help him. Is there a worse pain for a mother?

But Mary did not see only Jesus’ suffering. She saw the big picture of God’s beauty and restoration on the other side.

Mary understood the privilege and honor God had bestowed upon her in choosing her to raise his only Son. She did not know the journey, but she trusted the outcome.

The Hebrew people had been waiting for a Savior, and she simply knew that he was going to be in her care. Her cousin Elizabeth praised Mary’s unrelenting faith: “And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord” (Luke 1:45 ESV).

Even though she didn’t know what it would look like, Mary believed in the resurrection.

I find great comfort in knowing that motherhood was part of God’s plan for our redemption all along. When Mary gave birth to Jesus, the curse of pain in childbirth that God had given women as Eve was kicked out of Eden came full circle to ensure mankind’s restoration.

Mothers, while we are clearly not raising the Son of God, we are raising his image bearers, and they are not ours to keep. One day soon, we will have to let them go.

When we brace for impact in motherhood, we miss the big picture. Motherhood is a privilege and an honor God has bestowed upon us.

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We do not know the journey, but we can trust his outcome.

Lauren Flake writes about her journey as a wife, mom to two little girls and Alzheimer’s daughter in her native Austin, Texas, at For the Love of Dixie. Her first book, Where Did My Sweet Grandma Go? was published in 2016. She thrives on green tea, Tex-Mex and all things turquoise.

Photograph © Alex Pasarelu, used with permission