Two Truths and a Lie about Being a Working Mom

It was on an old notepad that I first wrote “be available” on my to-do list. Slotted between “write the article” and “edit the proposal,” “be available” was meant to signal what I valued and hoped to be in my very best moments of motherhood. Work was busier than ever, and because I worked from home, my job consistently bled out of its boundaries. It didn't help that I loved my work: the measurable productivity, the opportunities, the obvious and quick results—whether by nature, by nurture, by grace, or by sin, these were my natural bent and my work was their playground. 

But I also had three small humans who depended on me. That dependence required slowing down, feeling unproductive, saying no to opportunities, and waiting years for results. It required everything I felt I was not. So “be available” went on the to-do list. (If God has made me task-oriented, then I would find a way to redeem it.) Each day, when my nanny left and I picked up my son from school, I decided to shut my laptop until bedtime. I wouldn’t do housework (except for making supper—which included both destroying and cleaning up the kitchen). I wouldn’t do paperwork, run errands, or take a personal call unless absolutely required. My job, at 3:15 p.m. each day, was to be available for my children. 

I built Legos, colored pictures, and made bracelets. I played Sleeping Queens, War, and Pretty Princess. I was bored sometimes. I laughed harder than I ever thought was possible with children that young. I was doing it. I was being a good mom! I was accomplishing things at work! I was balancing it all!

Then I hit some pressing deadlines for work. I pushed off the request to make cookies with my daughter, flipped on a TV show for all three, and sat down in the other room with my laptop. As I sent out emails as fast as I could, I berated my inability to “be available” for even a few weeks. The high crashed and I felt guilty for not being fully present with my children. For not doing what I thought a good mom would. For being inadequate and insufficient—unable. 

Truth: You will never find the perfect balance. 

At a women’s event I attended, someone asked the panel how to find balance as a working mom. One of the panelists got out of her chair and stood on one foot. She bent and rocked, her arms splayed out as she sought to keep one foot in the air. One moment she’d have it, then the next her body swayed like wheat on a windy day. “You see this?” she said. “I’m trying to find balance, but I’m always looking for it. I’m always readjusting.” It’s a vivid picture I’ve never forgotten. 

I believe there are a handful of golden questions in motherhood and “How do I find balance?” is one of them. Yet, it’s as elusive as predicting what your toddler will want to eat for dinner. The reality of life east of Eden means that no matter how we order our days—what we put on our to-do list, what systems we set in place, what things we add or let go of—we won’t perfectly meet our self-imposed mark. Scripture tells us all “creation was subjected to futility” (Rom. 8:20). This life is a briar patch, tugging and pulling on our best-laid plans. Our inability to strike the balance as mothers is not always a mark of our failure—it’s a mark of our humanity on a broken earth. While we need to be good stewards of our time, God isn’t asking us to cobble together the perfect formula for a perfectly balanced life; he’s asking us to be humble enough to regroup when things aren’t working, to walk in the grace purchased for us in Christ, and remember that “the steps of a [mother] are established by the LORD, when [she] delights in his way” (Ps. 37:23). He knows homes and workplaces are not robotic machines—they are living, breathing spaces that require adjustment, judgment, involvement. Seeking balance isn't the goal—God is.[1]

Truth: Being away from your kids will be hard.

My youngest daughter has global developmental delays, which means she’s been in physical therapy since two months old. We waited 3.5 years for her first steps, and I missed them because I was working. Try as I might, I couldn’t assuage the pain of wondering if I should have been there. Would it have been okay had I been at the store? At my other child’s t-ball game? In the bathroom? 

As mothers, we know our children, particularly in the young years, need safety and security in the home. Yet, no matter if we work or not, we’ll spend time away from them. It’s not only necessary (see: bathroom), but also healthy. We are people too, and we’re creating a foundation for which to launch the little people we're entrusted to raise. Depending on whether work is a necessity or a choice, we may be able to turn the knob up or down on our hours away as we are sensitive to the needs of our children. As we do, we should listen to Scripture, the Spirit working through our conscience, our husband’s desires (if we have one), and the wisdom of family and friends. We may have seasons where we need to pull back from work and others where we need to press in. Either way, we can trust in the sovereignty of God. He feeds the sparrow, causes the oak to grow, and raises the white lilies from their beds each spring. He knows our needs and will meet us where we are. 

It was my sister-in-law who saw my daughter’s first steps. They have a sweet, special relationship, so it felt appropriate. She caught them on video. 

Lie: Guilt is just a part of being a working mom; you have to learn to live with it.  

If I were to gamble on one universal feeling that all moms have, I’d answer with two: joy and guilt. Joy, of course, because how could it not? And guilt—it may display as fear, anxiety, or uncertainty, but we all want to know: “Am I doing a good job?” And the voice usually whispers back, “Probably not.” 

While many talk about mom-guilt as a constant companion, what they don’t often mention is that there are two kinds: true guilt and false guilt. True guilt is a result of sin. False guilt is the result of holding ourselves to standards we’re not required to keep. I know well the temptations of the latter—like genuinely forgetting to sign the school paper or not seeing the scraped knee coming because I was with another child. These are the realities of being an embodied human, limited and bound to reality and biology. But there is also a true, deserved guilt and we all equally carry it: “Whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it” (James 2:10). Every one of us has broken God’s law, and we should feel rightful guilt for our sin. Impatience for slow toddler feet, anger at the spilled flour, gossip over the neighbor’s fence. Yet Christ came for both types of guilt. Not only to redeem our wrong thinking when we’re carrying misplaced guilt but also to pay for our sins on the cross, giving us new life and righteousness in him. As moms—as people—we don’t have to live with guilt as a constant shadow, whispering in our ear. In Christ, we have “good mom status” for eternity. As we trust him and seek him, we’ll find freedom.

The Honest Truth

From time to time, I still get motivated to put “be available” on my to-do list. These days, it’s less rigid and restricted, but it’s still a reminder of the kind of mom I want to be as I walk this tension of work and motherhood. It helps me to not just be available for my kids, but for my Lord. It prompts me to look around and be honest with the truth of my life in all my endeavors: Yes, I love my children. Yes, I love my work. Yes, it can be both. No, I cannot be everywhere at once. No, I will not get it all right. No, I don’t have to carry guilt for that. No, that wasn’t enough time. Yes, we should reevaluate. Yes, God sees me. Yes, God cares for me. Yes, Christ came for that. Yes, Christ paid for this. Yes, Christ is my all.

[1] Matt. 6:33, Ps. 27:4


Laura Wifler

Laura Wifler is the co-founder of Risen Motherhood and serves as the executive director and co-host of the podcast. She is the co-author of the best-selling book Risen Motherhood: Gospel Hope For Everyday Moments and the author of To The Cross I Cling, reflections as a mother to a child with a disability, and children’s books Any Time, Any Place, Any Prayer and Like Me. Laura, her husband, and her three children live in central Iowa. You can find her on Instagram or at laurawifler.com.

https://laurawifler.com
Previous
Previous

3 Reasons to Observe Lent

Next
Next

How Looking to Christ Lifts the Weight of Motherhood