18 years ago, I sat behind my school desk, hands placed neatly in front of me, and sharpened No. 2 pencils lined up perfectly. I probably wore a plaid jumper, and my long brown hair was pulled back in two, very symmetrical, very neat, French braids.
It was social studies class in the 4th grade; the topic of the day? Our future vocations. Written on the chalkboard in big, elementary school font, read:
“When I grow up, I want to be a …”
Firefighter. Teacher. Mom. Doctor. Astronaut. Mom. Veterinarian. Mom. Baseball player. Artist. Mom. Rockstar. Writer. Mom.
I looked around at all of the other girls in my class. Future moms. All of them.
“Losers,” I thought. “I’m going to be the first female president.”
Over the years, my desired future profession changed again and again, but “motherhood” never quite made it to the top of the list. I never liked dolls. Babysitting didn’t interest me. Sure, I’d have kids…after I went to law school, wrote my first book, and made a name for myself. Deep down, I just wanted to have influence – I wanted to do something great, something that affected lives.
Fast forward to today. God has answered my deepest longings, but certainly not in the way I expected. Here I am, the mother of 2 children. I’ve yet to write a book, I’ve never been to law school, and I will never reach “household name” status.
Somewhere along the last 18 year road, God has changed my mind about motherhood.
He’s called me to something great, something life-changing, something influential. He has called me to transform my home into a beautiful nursery for Heaven. And he’s teaching me, as I teach my children, that real influence comes as I lay down my life for others.
I don’t want to write a blog because they’re trendy (even though they are). And I certainly don’t want to write a blog on motherhood because it’s been easy, because it’s a dream come true, or because I’ve got an edge on motherly wisdom that the world needs to hear (because I most certainly don’t).
I’m starting this blog because I NEED IT. I need the written reminder, the chronicling of memories, of treasured moments. I need to write down lessons learned, both for me and my children. I need to be able to look back, years from now, and see how God’s grace is transforming my home, my family.
Because on the hard days, most days, I’m tempted look back at the little 4th grade girl, and yell angrily at God, “I never wanted this role to begin with!” And I need the Lord to gently speak to me, and remind me, “No you didn’t, Megan, but I gave you something far more beautiful, more fulfilling, more eternal, than those petty 4th grade dreams.”
God has called me to greatness.