Tanya Cotterell
Scarcity. Aside from those runaway, imaginary scenes that play out in a mother’s mind—the ones that center around freak accidents, abductions, and unforeseen tragedies— nothing takes a mother’s heart hostage to fear more than the thought of not being able to provide for the needs of her kids.
When they put my firstborn in my arms, an indescribable primal instinct flooded into the depths of my being. Some call it the “mama bear” factor. It was love, but it was more than love. My entire existence lurched into a world of uncharted purpose. My body no longer carried the weight of caring for her, but my heart and mind now carried a daunting new responsibility. I had been handed the task of providing everything to the most vulnerable little person I’d ever laid eyes on.
It was all on me. At least I thought it was. I was now yoked to the sobering duty of keeping my beautiful daughter safe, healthy, and well in a treacherous world. As my heart flooded with joy, love, and excitement, the shoulders of my spirit felt that yoke, and it wasn’t light.
Two more daughters and a son came along during the next eight years. Motherhood has been a wild ride filled with unfathomable joys and immeasurable agony. It’s a rollercoaster with twists and turns that come out of nowhere. I learned quickly that a mom has to be ready to problem-solve the unexpected on any given day. There’s no tapping out. Once I was thrown into the depths of motherhood, I assumed that I just had to figure out how to swim, but Jesus had something else in mind. While I was dog paddling through the exhaustion of scrambling to keep my head above water, He was standing on top of the waves inviting me to stand on the water with Him.
“Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is comfortable, and my burden is light.” --Matthew 11:28-30
The heavy yoke I carried was the yoke of fear. Early in my parenting, I was gripped by the fear of losing my kids. I thought about them dying in every kind of scenario. I was haunted by my perceived need to strategize their safety, and I was preoccupied with protecting them from pending tragedies that “might” happen.
I also worried about financially providing for their needs. Finances were tight, as they often are for young families. Our needs were met, but we faced financial stress regularly. I would think about the future and worry about our growing grocery budget, how we’d ever pay for our kids to take lessons, go to camp, or get the best medical care or therapies when needed. How would we ever swing helping them with college or provide the support they’d need to launch into adulthood? What if life threw us a curveball and we lost our income? What if the day came when I couldn’t put dinner on the table? What if I had to watch my children suffer because I couldn’t give them what they needed?
The what-if scenarios were endless.
I wish I could say that the Lord snapped me out of this thinking in a moment, but He did not. Instead, He has faithfully challenged me to lift my eyes to Him and to feel His hand in mine when I start sinking into fear. About four years into my motherhood journey, He convicted me of a significant sin that was lurking in a spiritual blind spot in my life.
A statement, nearly as clear as an audible voice, interjected into my mind: “Give them to me.” He proceeded to show me how I’d made my two young daughters into idols in my life. I protected them with a devotion that was greater than my devotion to Him, and that was not love. It was an illusion of love. My commitment to their protection was actually self-serving. I was protecting my own heart because I feared that I couldn’t survive if anything happened to them. My own desires were at the center of it all.
He reminded me that they were HIS. He reminded me that He loved them far more than I ever would. He reminded me that their lives were in His hands, not mine. He reminded me that being made into someone’s idol feels awful and isn’t actually loving them well. He reminded me that, although I was tasked with the job of protecting them, I truly did not possess the power to keep them from harm. He reminded me that everything I give them flows from Him. He is their Protector. He is their Provider. His hand filled our bank account month after month. He put the food on the table. Every one of their needs must be met by Him, not by me, my husband, or any other source.
If my life belonged to Jesus, then my motherhood had to belong to Him too. Scarcity thinking has no place for those who follow Jesus.
I belong to the King, the Creator of it all. The fear of not having enough is a trap that takes my eyes off of my Sustainer and causes me to start sinking into the unstable waves of fear.
Over the years, I started to notice that our financial situation had no effect on whether this sneaky thought-trap would pop up into my mind. We’ve parented through times of great financial need and through times of financial abundance. We’ve lost incomes and we’ve grown incomes. We’ve made some dumb choices with money and we’ve made some wise choices with money—and that pesky fear can still catch me by surprise no matter what our bank account looks like. The remedy isn’t money. It’s faith.
Thankfully, the Lord has taught me some valuable things in the midst of this mom journey. He’s taught me to spot the sin of scarcity fear when I drift back to it. He’s taught me to notice the waves lapping at my knees so that I can look back at His face, renew my mind, and choose faith before I sink. His hand feels familiar in mine, and I know how to reach for it quicker than I used to. More than anything, He’s taught me the discipline of giving back to Him, especially in times of want. He’s shown me how letting go of what I have is the best way to choose true faith in Him. In all our years of choosing to obey in giving, despite not knowing if we’d be left with enough, He has never failed to provide for every need. The old saying rings true: You can’t outgive God.
Often in moments of doubt, when I fall back into feelings of insecurity and forget that my trust in Him is all that matters, I think of the mom who gave her last bit of food to feed God’s prophet while she and her son were starving to death.
Then the word of the Lord came to him, “Arise, go to Zarephath, which belongs to Sidon, and dwell there. Behold, I have commanded a widow there to feed you.” So he arose and went to Zarephath. And when he came to the gate of the city, behold, a widow was there gathering sticks....And she said, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. And now I am gathering a couple of sticks that I may go in and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it and die.” --1 Kings 17:8-9,12
This mother’s name is not given to us, but her story is a story that every mom needs.
She was sinking deep into the deadly waves of fear. She and her son were literally facing starvation. She had just enough oil and flour to make one last little bread cake, and she had already mapped out their impending deaths once she provided this last meal to her boy. She had no husband, which meant she had no means of provision in her culture. She had no income. She faced the unimaginable. She was watching her son suffer greatly as death approached and she couldn’t find a way to save him.
We are told that before Elijah came to her and asked her for food, God had already commanded her to provide for him. As a Gentile woman, she would not have had context for obedience to Elijah’s God, yet somehow He’d spoken to her. She wasn’t without knowledge of what was being asked, but He asked her to obey with an incomprehensible amount of faith. I can only imagine that she wrestled greatly in her heart as she contemplated whether she could hand over her starving son’s last bit of food to a stranger.
When approached by Elijah, she hesitated. She objected. She justified. She validated her need to prioritize her child. The waves of scarcity and fear nearly swallowed her up, and yet, God spoke to her through the prophet with assurance that if she obeyed, his God would provide all that she and her son needed.
This mom let go of her primal instinct to feed her child. She reached the hand of her heart up to Heaven in complete desperation and vulnerability as she patted that bread cake together and handed it to the hungry stranger while her son’s empty stomach ached.
God grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the waves, and the veil of this material world tore open as He opened the windows of Heaven and filled up her jars.
Her motherly striving would have ended in the horror of watching her son starve to death. Instead, her faith and obedience brought life to them both. Even after this miraculous event had occurred, God astonished her when He saved her son again by raising him from the dead through Elijah! Once more, we see her capsized in the deep waters of terror, and once more we catch a glimpse of God reaching down to pull her up.
Restored physical life was their story, and yet I can’t help but imagine the spiritual life she and her son found after experiencing God’s power and provision.
For thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘The jar of flour shall not be spent, and the jug of oil shall not be empty, until the day that the Lord sends rain upon the earth.’” And she went and did as Elijah said. And she and he and her household ate for many days. The jar of flour was not spent, neither did the jug of oil become empty, according to the word of the Lord that he spoke by Elijah. --I Kings 17:14-16
What a testimony they must have had! What joy she must have felt knowing the love God had for her and for her son. I can just imagine her motherly encouragement as she told and retold her son the story of how God saved him, not once but twice! She gave the very best mom-gift she could: She lived by faith and pointed her son to Jehovah-Jireh: the God who Provides.
With a God like this, why should I ever strap that heavy yoke back onto my shoulders? It’s not “all on me” after all. Praise Jesus, it’s all on Him.
Tanya Cotterell lives in Salem, OR where she’s wife to James and mom to three daughters, a son, and a new son-in-law. She and her husband have owned multiple businesses, and she has worked as a natural wellness educator and business coach since 2012. She has been involved in various Christian ministries and currently serves as part of the women’s ministry leadership team at her church. Her favorite hobbies include painting, flower gardening, and traveling. You can follow her at https://www.instagram.com/misstanyaco/
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