Misguided Good: A Mother’s Perspective on How to Discern the Best Among the Good
By: Kathryn Fitzgerald
In four years since graduating, I married, worked one job, moved four times, birthed two babies, and exchanged my manual Honda Accord for a minivan. Instead of training for track meets or studying late, I chase my toddler, Anna, at the park with my infant, Avishai, strapped to my chest. Most conversation consists of a few keywords: “Mommy, more, potty…popsicle!” I maintain many ideals. For my daughter; I value her strength, energy, vivacity, and wonder for life. For my young son, I value happiness, health, and weight gain. However, my ideals often disappoint me when improperly ordered. God gives good gifts. But I cannot distinguish between my wants and my needs on my own, much less between a good ideal and God’s best. Sometimes I get what I want only to resent it and feel bitter disappointment. When this happens, I know that my sight is clouded and begin to feel despair until I turn to God for discernment. The Merriam Webster dictionary defines discernment as “the ability to perceive or recognize; to make out clearly or differentiate.” In this season of parenting two small children, I need God to differentiate between what is good and what is best. When I listen to Him, God reveals His priorities to me so that I do not get lost in my own conflicting ideals.
This week I watched my 22-month daughter climb up on a high chair and stand proudly from her perch. I smiled and felt her pride. I rejoiced with her for physically conquering what challenged her last week. A crash interrupted my reverie. Anna had knocked over Avishai’s expensive non-nipple-confusion-Momi glass bottle. This was no ordinary bottle. Its structure promised to simulate a mother’s nipple so that my son would maintain his ability to breastfeed between breast and bottle uses. This ideal bottle (which my son hated despite my most persistent encouragement) even promised a gas-free, colic-free, toxin-free eating experience. My vision for Avishai suckling on the perfect bottle vanished, and my joy shriveled into annoyance towards Anna for climbing so…so well! I even felt betrayal that Avishai preferred the cheap plastic bottle from Walmart. My immediate response to Anna was not one of loving correction, and I watched in horror as Anna’s spirit shriveled before me. My heart lamented and my mind pondered how to show her forgiveness when I wanted to hold a grudge.
As I gathered glass shards, I begged God to change my heart and give me strength to show her forgiveness. Soon I heard His response and saw my sin; my priorities were not aligned with God’s and hurt my relationship with Anna and Avi. God’s perfect timing for good things matters tremendously in discerning His ways for our best living.
At one time God called me to pursue track and field passionately, and now He has called me to raise my children with the same fervor. Can I be real with you who care to have children? Watching my form change as a baby grows me does not challenge me the same way postpartum vulnerability, weakness, and sleep deprivation does. When I trained as an athlete in college, I would squat 20 plus reps at 200 pounds and pole vault twelve feet in the air. I freely pursued physical excellence. “She clothes herself with strength (Proverbs 31).” But the sight of postpartum Kathryn brought tears to my eyes. Where were the abs of steal? Would I ever squat again? I delivered a human in the image of God. Was that end noble enough to justify the loss of my form?
These questions rattle me and even embarrass me to confess, but a desire deep and real remains true: I want both the babies and the body right away. I imagine many women feel the same desire. In my pleading, I see that what I want has a price. My body cannot produce milk to nourish a newborn and afford a cut form. I could make my body my ultimate end and lose the gift of feeding and nourishing my son. I would miss out on the process God orchestrated to sustain life and close my stretched womb. The function of feeding must replace athletic pursuits…for now.
“The old has passed away. The new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17).” Even if form returns to my earthly body, I sacrifice form for the function God orchestrated. He reorders my heart for something more everlasting.
“There is a time for everything under the sun (Ecclesiastes 3).” God, help me accept this with joy! In the process of birthing new image bearers, an old self has passed away. For me, motherhood means the death of my collegiate-athlete form, but in its death, I celebrate the new, healthy, life of my children. When I ask God, He offers correction, comfort, and peace that my spirit needs to accept an alternate and better reality.
I have many desires for good things, but good things at best only distract and at worst become idols hindering our communication with the ultimate Giver. I know God gives richly as I have need and in His time. What a joyous realization to see all my needs (not always wants) met by God! He provided me with a home in Oregon, weekly fresh groceries, and the rich community of His body. I have not truly suffered in this life...yet. Like a good father, He knows without my asking what will delight and satisfy me. He did not confer with me or make known to me in advance the great blessings I would possess like my children and their health and vigor.
When I am confused between ideals–my athletic daughter or the perfect baby bottle, my fit form or my children–I am grateful that I do not need to choose between them because I see how He gave me both for a season, and I get to receive and develop those gifts as the Lord gives.
Once I had the thrill of vaulting for Hillsdale College. Now I have the privilege of raising His little image bearers and to help them steward the gifts God gives to them. Maybe they’ll pole vault, or maybe they’ll do something different and better if that is what God has for them. He gives gifts for His own glory. “His ways are higher than my ways (Isaiah 55:8-9).” Submitting my wants for His best ensures peace and protection from wandering among the gravestones of my own misguided ideals.
Kathryn Fitzgerald | ‘20
I am a wife and mother of two under two. I am busy and blessed! My husband terminated five years of military service to move us to the civilian world in Oregon where Trader Joe’s exists next to an REI. I am torn between wanting to live our weekends in the mountains and continue developments on our fixer-upper home. I studied Spanish at Hillsdale College and dabbled in art and religion classes while competing for the Hillsdale College track and field team. As nostalgic as I am for the Dale—it’s people and ideas—we lack no community. I am always learning how to live out the principles I gained from Hillsdale College guided by the highest Good given by God: to love the Lord your God and love your neighbor as yourself.
