KATIE DRAKE | GUEST

Have you ever done something you said you’d never do?

If your answer is yes, you aren’t alone. As a therapist, I have read many helpful resources on parenting and child development, so as I entered motherhood in 2020, there were particular things I mentally said I would never do. One of those things was that I wouldn’t raise my voice at my children.

I remember vividly one of the first times I raised my voice at my children. I was three months postpartum after having my third. I felt desperate for a moment to myself and a warm shower. I fed my newborn, placed him in his bouncer seat, and stepped into the comfort of the hot shower. Within a few minutes, my two- and three-year-olds ran into the bathroom beginning to ask things of me. Soon they began to fight with one another. I first calmly spoke from the shower, but their frustration with each other intensified. I felt an overwhelming sense of desperation and anger rise in me. I stepped out of the short-lived shower and yelled, “Stop! Just stop it!” I saw the look of bewilderment and fear in their eyes; one quickly moved into the corner of the bathroom, and the other started sobbing. It was their small faces and reactions that made the moment so vivid. I instantly felt shame and guilt, but the shame spoke the loudest: “You’re such a bad mom,” “You said you’d never do that,” “What kind of mother yells at a 2 and 3-year-old?”

When We Do What We Said We’d Never Do

In 2 Corinthians 7:10, Paul writes, “For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death.”

Worldly grief occurs when you experience sorrow because of the fear of punishment. This is being upset because you got “caught,” and you hate that the consequences will make your life more challenging or will taint your reputation. Yet godly grief is a deep sorrow we feel for offending a holy God; it is a recognition that the central problem is sin. This is a sorrow that the song “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us” captures when it says,

“It was my sin that held him there, until it was accomplished. His dying breath has brought me life. I know that it is finished…Why should I gain from His reward? I cannot give an answer. But this I know with all my heart: His wounds have paid my ransom.”

If I’m honest, when I reflect on that moment I yelled, my initial response was worldly grief because I first looked to myself—my lack and my need to dig myself out. I felt fear as I looked to myself to fix my sin problem: my merit, my work, my striving, my need to perform, so that I might be deemed a worthy mom. Then came the self-justifications: “Well, you’re just postpartum,” “I’m sure all moms have had moments like this when they are sleep deprived.” But self-justifications don’t mend a heart or remedy sin.

Godly Grief That Produces Repentance is Based on the Object of Our Faith

God didn’t leave me there; He spoke tenderly to me in that vulnerable moment, reminding me that He saw my exhaustion, He saw my sin, and He remained with me. He didn’t just point out my sin and skip over my earthly fatigue. He also didn’t excuse my sin because of my exhaustion. Instead, He lifted my gaze upward to remember the love of Christ that mends hearts and remedies sin.

Romans 5:8-9 says,

“but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.”

I felt sad for scaring my children when I yelled at them. I grieved that I did not reflect Christ to them. I also grieved that I offended the very God who dug me out of the pit. I still felt shame. I still felt fear. But this time, through the Lord’s help, I cried out to Him for forgiveness and help, and then I moved towards my children. I could stand before God confidently and hopeful because of who Christ is instead of dwelling on self-hatred or self-justification. I then kneeled down eye to eye with my children, not to proclaim that “I’m really not that bad of a mom because everyone gets upset” or “I’m the worst mom, and you deserve far better” speech—no, I  acknowledged I had wronged them and helped them voice how they felt in response.

As fallen sinners, we all do things we say we will never do. But when we do, the Lord invites us to the throne of grace where we are stirred by Christ’s love as we feel godly grief.

Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash