Limited

(My response to this very honest question on the MOMYS forum: "How do you know when you've reached your limit?" She was speaking of number of children. And boy, do I know limits):

ONE was my limit. Seriously.

I don't have nine (well, ten counting the one kicking me from the inside) because I am strong.

I have ten because I am exceedingly weak and exceedingly fertile.

I am *not* of the mindset that everyone should have as many children as physically possible. I do believe that God is the Author of all life and has given us means to enjoy a break from pregnancy, should our current condition warrant it.

I think there is much support biblically for the idea that how we parent is far more important than how many we parent.

That being said, I know the swamped feeling. I know the "I can't DO THIS!!!" feeling. I know the guilt of fleeting intense desires to just have things back for an instant the way they were, pre-children.

And I know the well-worn path back to the cross. I know the Savior.

I know that each day, whether I feel capable or not, whether I have things in place or not, whether I *like* my children that day or only love them, whether I've slept, whether I'm prepared, whether I'm sick, whether I'm upbeat, whether I'm downtrodden, whether I'm up for the fight...

It's always Him. It's always Him. It's always Him.

There are days (moments?) where I am so aware of the gift that this mothering journey is. There are times when my cup overflows and I can barely breathe for what a blessing my life is. There are times when my menus are planned, the schoolwork is done, the floor is vacuumed, and the sun is shining.

But there are mostly times when my menus are nonexistent, the schoolwork is scattered and stained with hot tears, the floor is ... somewhere, and the sun only glares.

And in that mess, I am every bit as blessed as in the calm. I don't FEEL it. I feel frazzled and climbed on and stressed and fat and DONE.

And that's when I have to remember to stop looking at the mess. Stop looking at myself. Look up. Look at Him. Because it's always, always Him. We are never in control, even when we feel it. We are never capable, even when it seems that way.

Only He is. And He never fails. He never grows weary. He never lets us slip from His hand.

So when I feel like I've reached my limit? Really, it's just a glimpse of reality. "Lord, I see that I am so weak. You are so strong. Your grace is made perfect in my weakness. Please, please, please help me believe that. Help my children see that. Less of me, more of You."

And that's the long view I take. Take heart. He has no limit.