As a young girl, October was always my favorite month of the year. Its arrival meant my birthday, the much-anticipated harvest festival our church held at a nearby farm, and being able to sit on the front porch instead of inside to work on school lessons.

I can pretty confidently say October is still my favorite month, though I have learned I really do love all the “in between” weeks nestled in each season the best. Those glorious days when spring finally breaks through the cold of winter, the inaugural “hot” day of summer, the first snowflake of winter, and of course the transition from the warmth of summer to all that is so beautiful about fall. What a blessing the Lord brings change into our lives and that even the weather has a dynamic rotation.

But as much as I love change, when it comes to mothering and life in general, transition is not always easy. Just yesterday morning a new picture greeted me from my Timehop, transporting me to a memory three years ago.

My oldest was basically a baby and all the thoughts and feelings of that day and the emotions of that fall of first arriving at seminary came flooding back. The people. The places. The joys and the struggles.

How has it been three years already?

And the shocking thing about being a mother is the realization my children grow so quickly, and with each change of the season, they are not the same.

As I opened my Bible, pondering these things and praying through Psalm 1, my soul immediately found perspective:

How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,

Nor stand in the path of sinners,

Nor sit in the seat of scoffers:

But his delight is in the law of the Lord,

And in His law he meditates day and night.

He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,

Which yields its fruit in its season, 

And its leaf does not wither;

And in whatever he does he prospers.

When I look back on the past few years and even further, I am grateful for the Lord’s faithfulness. Every day I get to be a wife to Grant and a mom to my kids is truly a privilege and a gift.

My heart fills with nostalgic joy when I remember the day Grant and I got married and for each day we have had with our children. I cherish the fruit the Lord has brought in each season.

But I cannot go back. And just like it is impossible to store produce for very long, I cannot cling to the things of the past.

And each day I live, my memories from each new season only grow.

But what an encouragement it is when God brings a new season.

There is fresh and good fruit to be produced in my life today. New ways to pour out my heart to God. New ways to encourage my husband. New songs to sing to my children. New memories. New ways to see God working. 

It would be hard to live in a world without Octobers. But even harder to live in a world where God did not faithfully make things new in our hearts.

There is new fruit to be produced.

And that warms my heart this October.

“Choice fruits, new as well as old, which I have laid up for you, O my beloved.”

Two weeks ago {Feb 11, 12:28am} we welcomed our third child into the world, Charles Kelly Castleberry III. We love our sweet Charles (or Charlie) so very much already and it’s still hard for me to believe he is actually here!

It is also difficult for me to believe that our oldest, AudreyKate, will be four years old next week! And now Grant and I have three kids ages four and under!

Since Charles’ arrival, I’ve been reflecting a lot on how motherhood has changed my life.

Not too long ago, I read a blog post a young woman had written about how she was afraid to become a mother because it might cause her to lose herself. I have mulled over those words off and on since I read them and have asked myself the question, What has motherhood caused me to lose?

As I sit here with a newborn on my lap, typing with one hand, I cannot help but agree that being a mother has come at a cost.

Motherhood has caused me to:

Lose sleep.

Lose tears.

Lose writing time.

Lose reading time.

Lose “me time”.

Lose quiet time.

Lose my patience, my temper, and my uncluttered house.

It is the biggest (daily) sacrifice I have ever made.

I guess it’s true. It has caused me to lose myself.

My only regret is that I am four years into this journey and I haven’t lost more of ME. I’m still more selfish and self-centered than I want to be.

John the Baptist, who Jesus said was the greatest man who ever lived (Matthew 11:11), had one burning desire:

He must increase, but I must decrease.

For the Christian wife and mother, motherhood is a calling.

God has used little hands and little feet to help me understand that I cannot lose myself enough in the calling He has given me.

And it is in the losing that something of worth is truly gained.

Motherhood has cost me, but make no mistake, it hasn’t robbed me.

It has given more than I could have ever hoped or imagined. It has caused me to look to the Lord and redefine what I value as important. It has changed me and grown me and helped me to value the quiet, unnoticed things.

Changing a diaper in the middle of the night.

Laying down with a three-year-old who needs me.

And cleaning up a potty training accident yet again.

These things among many others are helping me turn from my selfishness and pursue that which is good and right and true.

One of my favorite verses is Luke 9:23-24:

And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.”

This is the beauty and wonder of the gospel. It is in the losing that we gain.

When I held our sweet Charlie for the first time just two weeks ago, I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Nine months of anticipation (and sickness) and a long labor had all been worth it.

His life is a gift beyond compare.

To my dear AudreyKate and Evangeline, you are worth it. Nothing I’ve lost of myself compares to what I have gained in being your mom.

And I can only pray that I keep on decreasing so that you may clearly see the One who is worth it all.

.

If you were encouraged by this piece, you might also like A Brave New Mom

I was trying desperately to get out the door. The clean dishes were unloaded from the dishwasher and replaced by the sticky ones from breakfast. Oatmeal that was vehemently clinging to the carpet had been scrubbed clean. I wiped cheerios and spilled milk off a high chair tray and dashed to the bathroom to apply two minutes worth of make-up and throw my hair in a ponytail.

I picked up two little people one by one, wiped down their sticky hands and faces, changed their diapers, and put on their outfits. While searching frantically for a matching pair of shoes, as if on cue, breakfast hit their tiny tummies. I undressed them, changed their diapers, and redressed them. The lost shoe was found in a toy bin. As I packed the diaper bag, I turned to find my oldest curiously digging through a bag of trash. I moved the trash, took her hand, and started loading both of the girls in the car.

I went around to one car seat, click, click, click. And then around to the other, click, click, click. I went back inside, grabbed my purse, and took a final look around the apartment. As hard as I had tried to leave everything clean, it was still messy.

With the apartment now locked up, I got in the car and immediately a voice in the backseat cried for “lovey” which was most certainly left inside.

I looked at the time. Fifteen minutes late.

I glanced at the two sweet faces in the back seat, one who was crying. Should I even try to go where I was headed? Maybe I should just go back inside. It would be naptime before long.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the headrest. Why couldn’t I get it together? 

I spent the next few minutes of that morning beating myself up for not being an always on-time and organized kind of mom. Essentially, I was asking myself, why am I not perfect?

I’ve had many mornings like the one I described above and I am sure I will have many more in my future as long as I am alive and breathing.

Even though these kinds of mornings aren’t my favorite, I am learning to embrace them because they are a regular reminder that I am, indeed, far from a “perfect” mother.

What is a perfect mother any way?

As I grow in my understanding of what it means to raise little ones, I have been freed by a simple truth that I heard while taking a counseling class for seminary wives last semester: “God has not called you to be perfect, God has called you to be faithful.” 

In our DIY and Pinterest-perfect culture, sometimes it’s easy to start comparing ourselves or wondering how all those women out there in the blogosphere do all the things they do so beautifully. While these things (whatever it may be: fashion, crafting, home-decorating, etc)  have their place, as soon as we start making them our primary focus, we can get lost very quickly. After all, people only post their best anyway.

As women, we are often hard on ourselves for things that we shouldn’t be: Why can’t I be as crafty as her? Why can’t I decorate my home like she does? I wish I were musically talented like that. If only I could get up as early as she does. How does she keep in such great shape?

But we are soft on areas where we should be tough. We say we are “stressed” or “frazzled” instead of confessing anger or self focus before the Lord. We are lazy and do not work hard to keep our house clean and say, “That’s just not my thing” or “I just didn’t have time,” even though we made time for watching TV or browsing the Internet. We snap at our husbands and then make excuses, “Well, I had a long day.” Or “You have no idea what my day was like.” We gossip and say, “I just needed to vent.”

And the list goes on.

At the end of the day, as hard as it may be to imagine, God doesn’t look at your vacuumed floors or your color coded closet (if someone out there has one of those), he looks at your heart (1 Samuel 16:7).

Were you faithful with the time you had? Were you faithful to confess sin? Love your husband? Love your children?

God doesn’t call you to be perfect, but He does call you to be faithful. He calls you to call sin, sin, and to love Him with all your heart, soul, and strength and love others as yourself (Matthew 22:37-39).

And while you will never do these things perfectly, you have a faithful God who will grow you as you try.

When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.

When things aren’t the way you want them to be young mother, run to the Faithful One, and find your perfect acceptance in Him.