You Didn’t Lose Her; You Just Forgot

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” (Ephesians 2:10, NLT)

I’ve discovered how to practice patience. Just take a road trip through Chicago on a Friday afternoon.

Recently my daughters and I hopped in our car to visit friends across state lines — a three-hour drive according to the GPS. We arrived Thursday afternoon and spent the evening chatting, laughing, snacking, enjoying precious time with precious people. Worth every second.

Even the trip home.

Because that was no three-hour drive. As soon as our SUV met the on-ramp, we crawled, bumper to bumper, across 200 miles of interstate. Those three hours grew to nearly seven hours on the road. Seven!! By the time we reached home, our brains were drained and our legs were taffy.

And I had never felt so strong.

Before marriage, I drove long road trips through big city expressways all the time. At night! I knew how to crank up my cassette player, flip on the cruise control, and manage tricky traffic without a second thought. I was independent. I was capable.

And then I met my husband. And he did all the driving. And the gas pumping. And the tire checking. And I became content to settle in my passenger seat, relying on him to take the wheel. That’s a blessing; marriage takes teamwork, and we do that very well.

Yet I think I forgot my own abilities in the midst of it.

Until that fateful road trip through Chicago — when my “low tire” light went on.

Booger! I’m not the one who checks the tires! But I did what mature people do. I remained calm, got off at the nearest gas station, bought a tire gauge, and checked those PSIs like a boss. And the whole time I was unscrewing wheel caps, filling tires with loud bursts of air, getting my fingers black and my forehead sweaty — my confidence swelled like it hadn’t in years.

I am capable.

And sometimes I forget.

Do you?

There’s a big difference between not having to do something and not being capable. In the roles and routines of family life, I sometimes lose sight of that. But what I’ve realized — especially in this season of watching my kids grow into young adults, FaceTiming the dorm room, learning to let go — is that you and I have been pouring ourselves into other people for so long, we’ve forgotten what we’re capable of on our own.

We’ve forgotten who we were before “Honey” and “Mom” became our first names.

But capable? We never stopped being capable.

Because while we were busy raising humans and loving our people and doing the daily work of building a family, we were also becoming. Becoming wiser, stronger, more resilient than we know. We’ve navigated sick kids, tight budgets, heartbreak, years when our marriages were held together with duct tape and prayer, and a thousand Tuesday afternoons that required more energy than we had.

And we did it.

You, Momma, are capable. Not just of road trips and tire gauges, but of purpose. Of reinvention. Of stepping into every next season with the wisdom of all that came before. God doesn’t waste a single year of what you and I have lived. He’s been building us all along.

So next time you’re feeling like you’ve lost yourself somewhere between the carpool line and the college drop-off, pull over at the nearest gas station. Check your tires. Remember who you are.

And then? Get back on the road. The best part of the trip might still be ahead.

Reflect

• Read Ephesians 2:10 again slowly. God calls you His masterpiece — not His work in progress, not His rough draft. What “good things” do you sense He planted in you long before motherhood that might still be waiting to unfold?

Apply

• Think of one thing you used to do confidently that you’ve handed off or abandoned somewhere along the way, not because you lost the ability, but because life rearranged your roles. Maybe it’s a creative hobby, a skill, a dream you quietly shelved. Write it down today. Then ask God if it’s time to pick it back up.