Before I entered the world of motherhood I had some pretty strong (and ignorant, mind you) ideas of what kind of mom I was going to be. I visualized myself prancing around town toting my offspring in a pristine and crumb-free stroller, with my hair bouncing on my shoulders just like Gwyneth Paltrow and baby Apple. I was going to get up early every day, shower, do my hair and make-up and would not allow myself to look like the exhausted and haggard moms I spied at the mall, donning their husband’s over-sized t-shirts and worn out sweats, with a multitude of bags hanging from their shoulders and forearms. Their strollers, encrusted with sticky substances and stale cheerios, grossed. me. out. I vowed that my children would be forbidden to eat in the stroller, that I would only carry one bag, and I would never be caught dead sporting anything from my husband’s dresser drawers. My baby would coo and giggle while out and about on our shopping ventures; not scream, cry and throw tantrums like the ones I so often observed parked in goo-infested travel systems outside MiMi’s Maternity Boutique. I was going to do motherhood right – a one bag, spotless stroller, stylish Mommy, and adorable offspring kind of gal.
Let’s flash forward about six years. I am now the proud mother of three, ages 6, 4 and 3. Our stroller looks like it’s been pummeled with applesauce and bananas with remnants of saltine crackers wedged into every nook and cranny. It’s a health hazard. Try as I did to firmly adhere to the “no food in the stroller” rule, a peaceful shopping experience won out, along with goldfish and mushy fruit. (Anyone with a baby over the age of six months knows exactly what I’m talking about.) A squeaky clean stroller was just a pipe dream.
Speaking of outings. Remember my vow to “never be caught dead sporting anything from my husband’s dresser drawers”? Children, too, have changed my perspective on what is appropriate “going out” attire. These days comfort is key. I long to be comfortable. I have worn Joel’s t-shirts, sweatshirts, socks and ball caps. And all I’ve worn shamelessly to the grocery store, shopping, walks around the block and running errands. There have been days on end when not a smudge of make-up has touched my skin. It’s not that I don’t care about my looks, but looking good tends to take a back seat when I’m absorbed with the needs of my little ones.
And then there are the bags. (Oh…the bags!) They were, in fact, the inspiration of this post today. As I was preparing to head out the door the other morning I stopped when I suddenly caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror with bags hanging from various body parts. I looked like a Christmas tree decked out in backpacks, book bags, lunch bags, my purse, coats and sweaters. “Oh no! Say it ain’t so!” I turned from my reflection, blinked my eyes hoping the image was not as it appeared, and snuck a second glance. Nothing had changed. I knew right then and there I had become the bag lady.
Not just the bag lady, but the poor mom huffing and puffing her way through the church foyer, feeling like she has forgotten something, hoping her hair still looks as cute as it did before Jackson’s curious hands touched and grabbed it while being buckled into his four-point harness car seat, and praying that no one will drop on the floor in blatant protest to mommy’s whispered instructions. I am the mom that I said I would never become. I’m the icky stroller, multi-bag toting, wearing hubbies cast-off tees, exhausted, and breathless mommy.
In the literal sense, it seems that everywhere we go requires huge amounts of excess baggage. Just managing all the kids’ miscellaneous items is enough to wear me out – even when they, too, are carrying part of the load. Which brings me to my “big thought” for the day. What about all the excess stuff I carry around spiritually? All the worries, stress, needless expectations I put on myself, the guilt (Oh the guilt!), and the fear…the list could easily go on and on. Even when I unburden myself to my husband or a close friend, still the “bags” continue to hang from my shoulders or pull on my arms. While there’s not much I can do about all the backpacks, water bottles, blankets and coats while my kids are young, there is something I can do about the bags I carry around in my spirit. Those bags are unnecessary, and there is nowhere I can find that God desires for me to continue clinging to them.
So how do I get rid of this spiritual baggage?
By setting them down at the feet of Christ. The whole reason God allowed His son Jesus to come to earth, dwell among us and sacrifice His life on the cross, was so that He could take every care of the world, every sin of every man and every burden we struggle to balance onto His own back and carry it for us. We love to sing, “I surrender all”, but most of the time once we’ve left the altar where we’ve made that submission, we end up picking up our “all” right outside the door. The challenge is not so much to spill out our lives in a moment of emotional surrender, but to daily give everything over to God. Daily lift up our hands and say, “Take my fear today, take my sadness, take my struggles, my finances, my priorities, my family…take every burden weighing on this heart of mine…today.” And then daily, He can take all those spiritual bags we’ve been dragging around for so long, and bring us the relief and peace we so desperately need and want.
Psalm 68:19
Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.
This year, as December approached, I found myself in a reflective state of mind – pondering the passing year and what the New Year may bring. I get this way when December rolls around. Usually I find myself in awe of what God has done, the miracles, and His goodness to me, and my family. This time, however, I struggled to see the wonder of the past year and even more to anticipate a better 2010. Depressing as this may sound, 2009 was – simply stated – an unexceptional year. Without going into a lot of detail, I would have to say that my hopes and dreams and list of things I was believing God for in the year 2009 never materialized…at least not as of the first of December. In my brief review and reflection I was disappointed…and even worse, I wasn’t feeling all that excited about the year to come.
But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him.
One of the many things “motherhood” has taught me is that you have to have a strong enough stomach to deal with all of the ‘goo’ that these little bodies produce. Whether it be the leaky poopie diaper or the nose that perpetually runs like Niagara Falls, mom has to be prepared to deal with whichever end the goo is coming from. After six years of motherhood, I’ve earned my ‘goo badge’, and I wear it proudly. I’ve cleaned poop off walls, cribs, clothes and hair (my own). I have an entire collection of shirts that have religiously been used as Kleenex, as well as cleaned, caught and been covered in vomit. Oh yes, I’ve earned my badge.
recounting all of the “gooey” stories is, I just have to ask one thing: Do we not all carry some kind of ‘goo’ around with us? I’m not talking about spit up and poopie diapers. I’m talking about those things we hide because we know that other people simply can’t handle our ‘stuff’, and if we share it we may end up rejected. I know for certain that nobody is perfect, just as I know there is no such thing as a baby without goo, precious as they are. Thankfully God takes us – ‘goo’ and all. He doesn’t shame us or run to the bathroom to wash His hands after touching us. No. God receives us just as we are. When I’ve messed up and wondered if there is any hope of redemption for my soul, I know that in the presence of God the goo is wiped away and He is looking lovingly at me – the person – and not at all of the stuff I’ve brought with me. God doesn’t care about where the goo came from or to whom it belongs. He simply cleans it up and restores us back to cleanliness. He doesn’t judge. He doesn’t wish we would stop coming to Him a gooey mess. He loves. He adores. He sees the most precious part of us, and He longs to continue to bring out the best in each of us. How thankful I am that my ‘goo’ doesn’t make my Heavenly Father sick to the stomach. 
Do you have ‘goo’? Are you afraid to expose the most “icky” part of yourself for fear of rejection? Let me please put your fears at ease and let you know that we ALL have ‘goo’. Every single human being on this planet has ‘goo’. No one is exempt. The key to goo removal is not found in buying a Costco size box of baby wipes. The key is going to God, exposing the ‘goo’ and receiving His forgiveness and love. If you’ve got 'goo', God’s got grace. And He’s waiting patiently, with open arms, to embrace and accept us - goo and all.