The Be Mighty Mom Ministry
Doing the Right Thing Still Broke My Heart
Hello Reader,
When I say this was one of the more challenging weekends we have experienced as a family, I do not say that lightly.
Saturday swim lessons are always a highlight for me because I get to take Finnegan into the water and have some sweet 1:1 bonding time. That’s not something we typically get to do. But throughout our entire lesson, we could both hear Max in his private session. Finn had a hard time focusing because he kept trying to get eyes on his big brother.
At the end of the lesson, we got out of the pool, and my sweet two-year-old Finnegan stood by the edge waiting for Maximus to join us. Max was crying, saying things we couldn’t quite understand. Finn gently took his hand and walked him back into the changing room where he felt safe.
I took Max into my arms and let him collapse. Both of us dripping pool water all over the floor, and neither of us caring.
The plan for the day was a family trip to Epcot. We had been talking about it all week and even had reservations at my favorite restaurant. Theme parks are always Max’s safe place. It makes zero sense with all the sensory overwhelm, but to Max, a theme park is peaceful while a library can feel like too much.
So when I reminded him of our plans, fully expecting excitement, I was met with full-blown panic. Panic that couldn’t be talked down. Panic that wasn’t going away.
And for the first time that didn’t involve a hospital stay, we had to make a decision to separate as a family for the day. Finnegan and Mike would enjoy a fun day at Epcot. Maximus and I would have a quiet day at home.
I always knew these days were coming. I just hoped a theme park would make them less likely. I was wrong.
Our day was filled with video games, McDonald’s delivery eaten in bed, and lots of snuggles. It was perfect. But I can’t lie. It was heartbreaking.
Getting videos of Finnegan meeting his favorite character, Goofy, made a piece of my heart break. How could I be missing such a big moment for my baby?
I showed Max the video and he said, “I wish they be with me.”
I asked, “Oh, do you want to be with them?”
Maximus responded, “Yeah. Mama. Mackimus. Binnegan. Dada.”
I tried my best to hold back tears. I made a mistake. I should have taken him anyway.
“Honey, do you wish you were at Epcot with them?”
He looked up from his game and repeated, “No no no. Stay home. No no no. Stay home.”
Relief. And yet, more heartbreak.
As I sat in bed wiping tears from my cheeks and stuffing my face with McDonald’s french fries, Maximus scooted closer so he could be touching my arm and said, “I love you, Mama. You my best friend.”
In that moment, I realized I did right by him. He told me what he needed. I made sure he knew he had options. And we chose the right one for him that day.
While I can be heartbroken about missing so much with Finnegan, I can also be so proud of Maximus. Proud of him for voicing his needs and for trusting me enough to believe I would honor them.
This was hard. A hard weekend.
And after reflecting on it, it has me thinking about our relationship with God. God often puts things on our hearts that make us uncomfortable. Sometimes we are obedient. Other times, we shrink back. We tell ourselves we are not ready, that we need more time, or that we just cannot that day.
Instead of forcing us, God allows us to choose.
Would God be disappointed that we didn’t step forward? Or would He lovingly give us room to grow so that when we are ready, we can walk confidently?
As parents, we want what is best for our children. And our Father, God?
He wants the best for His children too.
Stay Mighty,
Devotional of the Week
Psalm 103:13 (NIV)
As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him.
There are moments in motherhood where love and heartbreak exist in the same breath. You can make the right decision and still feel the ache of what could have been. You can protect one child while missing something with another. You can choose wisely and still grieve.
This weekend reminded me that doing what is best does not always feel good in the moment.
Sometimes obedience looks like staying home.
Sometimes wisdom looks like separating for the day.
Sometimes love looks like listening when it would be easier to push through.
And in those moments, we are given a glimpse into the heart of God.
Reflection
Compassion changes how we interpret both motherhood and faith.
We often assume growth only happens through pressure. That if we don’t push, force, or stretch ourselves constantly, we are failing. But Scripture shows us a Father who understands our frame. A God who knows when we are dust and when we are ready.
There is a difference between disobedience and capacity.
Sometimes we are resisting God. Other times, we are simply not ready yet. And a compassionate Father knows the difference.
As moms, especially raising children with additional needs, we live in constant tension between what could be and what currently is. Compassion does not eliminate that tension. It steadies us inside it. It reminds us that wisdom is not weakness. And pacing is not quitting.
God’s compassion allows room for growth without shame.
Just like we want our children to trust us enough to tell us when something is too much, God invites us to bring Him our limits too. He is not surprised by them. He remembers how we are formed.
And He responds with compassion, not disappointment.
Journal Prompt
Where have I been shrinking back lately?
What would it look like to receive God’s compassion there instead of assuming His frustration?
A Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for being compassionate with me. Thank You for seeing my capacity, my fears, and my limits. Help me trust that when I am not ready, You are not angry. When I need time, You are patient.
Teach me to walk in obedience without shame. Teach me to lead my children the way You lead me, with compassion and wisdom.
Thank You for never forcing, never abandoning, and never withdrawing Your love.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
Need Somewhere to Start? Start With Prayer.
If you’re feeling the urge to do something but don’t know where to begin, start with prayer.
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