Motherhood: Doing Things Differently, Side by Side with Christ

When we become moms, something strange happens.

The things we swore we’d never repeat…the wounds we thought were behind us…the patterns we didn’t even realize shaped us…suddenly show up in our everyday mothering.

It’s confusing.

It’s frustrating.

And it can make us feel like we’re failing especially because our intentions are good.

But here’s the truth most of us were never taught -

the patterns that show up in motherhood didn’t start with us.

And if some of this feels new to you, that’s okay.

I’m going to walk you through it gently, because this understanding changed everything for me.

The Patterns We Carry

Every family passes things down — not just genetics, but ways of coping, reacting, communicating, avoiding, and surviving.

Some families pass down anger.

Some pass down silence.

Some pass down criticism.

Some pass down fear or shame.

We inherit more than we realize.

For the longest time, I thought these things were just “how my family is.”

I didn’t realize there was more happening under the surface.

But the deeper I got into Scripture — and the more I sat in therapy each week, slowly peeling back lies I had believed my entire life — the clearer it all became:

These patterns have spiritual roots, not just emotional ones.

If We Believe in Jesus, We Have to Understand the Other Side Too

Most of us moms believe Jesus is good.

Most believe He heals.

Most believe He brings peace.

But no one ever teaches us that if we believe in God’s side of things…we also have to acknowledge the spiritual darkness that exists too.

And before that sounds scary, stay with me —this is actually empowering, not fearful.

Because here’s what I learned the hard way:

There is a spiritual enemy who loves to use the patterns in our families to keep us stuck.

Not possessed.

Not dramatic.

Just stuck.

Stuck in shame.

Stuck in anger.

Stuck in silence.

Stuck repeating what we never wanted to repeat.

Once I understood that, everything made sense.

Seeing My Family More Clearly

I grew up carrying wounds that shaped everything about me.

I felt alone in things no child should ever walk through.

And the silence around it — the pretending, the ignoring, the “don’t bring it up” — hurt almost as much as the event itself.

For years, I saw my parents through anger.

Deep, justified anger.

And then slowly — through therapy, Scripture, and wrestling with God — He showed me something I wasn’t ready for:

My parents were also victims.

Victims of their own parents.

Of their own unhealed trauma.

Of patterns they didn’t have the courage or tools to break.

This didn’t excuse anything.

It didn’t soften the impact their choices had on me.

It didn’t erase the consequences.

But it did bring clarity.

They weren’t my enemies.

They were people who never had someone show them what healing looked like.

So I can honor their story without repeating it.

I can understand how they ended up where they did and still name the damage.

I can hold empathy and hold boundaries at the same time.

I can forgive and still fiercely protect what God is building in my home.

The Hard Truth About Forgiveness

Let me be honest — forgiveness used to feel impossible. Some days, it still does.

I would hear people say they forgave someone who hurt them deeply and I would think, How?

I would listen to people with heartbreaking stories talk with so much peace and something inside me ached.

Because I didn’t have peace.

I had turmoil.

I had pain.

I had anger that lived in my body for decades.

I wanted forgiveness so badly… but I didn’t know how to get there.

So I started asking God — really asking Him:

“Lord, help me forgive. Help me let go. Help me not carry this forever.”

He did not answer overnight.

He didn’t remove the memories.

He didn’t erase the pain.

But slowly — gently — He began softening places in me I didn’t even know were hardened. He had me face those deep dark places.

In therapy, my therapist invited me to get honest.

Really honest.

To name what I was feeling: the anger, the grief, the disappointment, the sadness.

To stop running.

To sit in the uncomfortable places I had avoided for years.

And as much as I resisted it, that’s where God met me.

He already knew my heart.

He already knew the pain I was holding.

He already knew I needed Him in those exact places.

He was simply waiting for me to ask Him in.

And as that work unfolded —as I unlearned, processed, grieved —God kept bringing me back to the vision He placed in my heart for motherhood.

The Vision God Gave Me

The vision of the kind of mom I want to be:

warm, approachable, nurturing, honest, real.

The mom whose presence feels safe.

The mom whose arms feel like home.

The mom my daughter never hesitates to run to.

And the vision of the childhood I want for Luci:

connection, belonging, gentleness, truth, joy.

A life where she knows she is deeply loved.

A life where she feels safe.

That vision became my goal.

Not perfection — but intention.

Not performing — but becoming.

I took everything I needed from my own mom and turned it into my goal for Luci.

Everything I longed for.

Everything I begged for.

Everything I didn’t receive.

I use it now as a blueprint —a holy map toward the mom God is shaping me to be.

I want to be a present mom who genuinely loves her child.

And I believe God planted that vision in me first —so I’d have something to move toward while He healed what was behind me.

And honestly, Luci has been my biggest motivator.

Every time I choose healing, honesty, or the hard work of breaking patterns…it’s because she deserves a life where she doesn’t have to unpack my hurt.

She deserves a childhood that feels safe.

She deserves a mother who is emotionally present.

She deserves to grow up without carrying weight that was never hers.

She is the reason I choose a different way —and the reason I trust God to help me become the mother He created me to be.

Boundaries Can Rewrite a Family Line

That’s why the story of Queen Vashti hit me so deeply when I was reading it the other day.

Her “no” cost her everything —her comfort, her position, her role.

But her boundary created space for Esther.

And Esther’s obedience saved an entire nation. Queen Vashti's "no," wasn't about her.

It was for Esther.

Sometimes the boundary we set —the “no more,”

the “this stops here,”

the “I won’t carry this forward”

—is the very thing God uses to rewrite a family line.

The Enemy’s Goal Is Always the Same

The enemy doesn’t need to make us terrible mothers.

He just needs to keep us unhealed ones.

Distracted.

Ashamed.

Exhausted.

Avoidant.

Reactive.

If he can keep us stuck, the cycle continues.

But Jesus didn’t die for our children to inherit our pain.

Seeing the Battle Changes the Battle

Once you understand the spiritual side of your patterns —once God opens your eyes to the root —everything changes.

You stop fighting the wrong people.

You stop blaming yourself.

You stop carrying shame that was never yours.

You start fighting the real battle with authority, clarity, and Jesus beside you.

You become the mom who stands in the gap.

You become the mom who says: “This ends with me.”

Not through your strength —but through His.

And that brings peace.

You don’t have to fix it all today.

You don’t have to heal everything at once.

You just have to be willing.

Honest.

Open to God’s leading.

Healing is slow and holy work —and God walks every step of it with you.

A Prayer for Eyes to See

Lord, help me see the spiritual battle behind the patterns I’ve carried.

Show me what is mine to heal and what was handed to me.

Give me courage to stand where my parents couldn’t, and compassion without compromising truth.

Let the pain in my family line end with me —so my children can begin something new.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

What’s Next

This is where our series truly begins. Now that we understand the why, we can finally face the what.

• Catch up: The Heart Behind This Series HERE

• Next post: Silence & Avoidance — When families stop talking about the pain, and how God invites us to speak truth.

  
  

Because when we see the battle clearly, we stop fighting flesh and blood—

 and start fighting for our families the way God designed us to.

When we heal, we can lead. When we lead, our children inherit freedom.