The Big Mistake Women Make When the Stick Turns Blue

Oh, mamas, we have so much in common from the second that stick turns blue. We need to be there for one another without labels, categories or preconceived notions.

There is an old hymn that says, “the ground is level at the foot of the cross.” No achievement can make us stand taller within the cross’ shadow and no failing can cause us to sink lower. We are all wretches in need of amazing grace.

We think it’s different. Sometimes, we want it to be different. We want there to be degrees of sin so that we can somehow feel better about our standing before a holy God. But you and I? We are not that different.

Motherhood is another of life’s equalizers. A miracle that should bring us together.

And yet, we look at one another and attempt to place one another in the appropriate group. This, sisters, is a tragic mistake.

She’s into that all natural thing.

I heard she started planning the epidural before the stick was even finished turning blue. (That was me, by the way.)

Her kids are homeschooled/public schooled/private schooled.

She only wanted one kid.

Doesn’t she know about birth control? (This is also me. By my fourth pregnancy, my brother said, “Stacy, you really need a new hobby.”)

I don’t know why we insist on creating these imaginary divisions. The reality is that we have FAR MORE in common, y’all!

Raise your hand if you have scooped poop out of the bathtub, picked a toddler’s nose because you could not handle the booger hanging out in there, changed a diaper on the hood of your car, caught vomit in your bare hand, changed wet bed sheets in the middle of the night, allowed a feverish child to sweat all over you, rocked a crying baby into the wee hours of the night, stayed up all night worried because your child was out with friends, wondered how you were going to pay for all the things, or cried with your child over his first broken heart.

I walked into a hospital room last week and met a mother whose son was just diagnosed with leukemia. In that moment, it didn’t matter one iota if she was a stay at home mom, a working mom, a work at home mom,  a single mom, a mom of one or a mom of many. I’ll be honest – I don’t know which category she would fall into and I couldn’t care less. I rubbed her back and I cried because, in that moment, my mama heart was breaking for her mama heart.

We need to be there for one another without labels, categories or preconceived notions. The ground is level, y’all. The ground is level. We’re all the same. We pray for our babies to be healthy, our bills to be paid and our coffee to have an appropriate amount of creamer. And, if anyone says you don’t need creamer, distance yourself from them because you don’t need that kind of negativity in your life.

I’m praying for each of you this week. Seriously, if you read these words, consider yourself prayed for. And, if anyone needs me, I’m spending the next three days in Gatlinburg with our church’s senior adults and I am crazy excited. I may not come back home.

You are loved.

This article originally appeared StacyJEdwards.com.

Stacy Edwards
Stacy Edwards is a trucker's daughter and a pastor's wife. She is a homeschooling mom to five daughters. Stacy is an author (Devotions From the Front Porch, Thomas Nelson, January 2016), speaker and coffee drinker. If you need her, she is probably hiding in the bathroom. You can also find her hanging out on Twitter (@sjedwards), Instagram, Facebook and on her blog, Servant's Life.

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