Motherhood Feels Like a Soft Blue
When walking with Jesus changes the color of your life
Writing with Jesus is a reader-supported publication where laughter is found, tears are shed, and faith is made steadfast. Writings on wrestling with God, motherhood, and some comedy to lighten the mood.
Ever since I had a baby, I’ve craved the color soft blue.
I had a baby girl, so you’d think I’d want lots of shades of pinks and rose but no, blue, soft blue.
In middle school and high school, I wanted grays and blacks. Black t-shirts, black converse shoes, black hats, black backpacks, dark nail polish, some color, here and there sure, but I wanted somewhere close, not too far out of reach, the false comfort of gray, of black.
In my late teens and early twenties, I wanted yellow. Bright sunshine yellows, deep golds and mustards, a muted faded yellow, yes, I wanted happy. To think happy, to be happy, I wanted something to remind me to smile, to jump, to play, to dance, to throw my hands to the sky and do a little or large spin, yes, I was desperate for happy. I was crawling and clawing towards happy. Yellow bedspread, yellow soap, yes give me yellow, give me happy! Please, please! I was clinging with white bloody knuckles to happy, to yellow, because the darkness was all consuming.
“I don’t know if I’m the happiest sad person, or the saddest happy person I’ve ever known,” I said to my best friend and roommate in college, curled next to her in her bed, like two little girls at a sleepover, my face wet with tears.
This was before Jesus. Praise the Lord. Amen. Before giving my entire life to Jesus, radically repenting, completely surrendering to Him, not only believing in Him but following Him, and being wholeheartedly saved and set free from all my lifelong torment. Yes, Jesus changed everything. I didn’t need black, nor yellow, no, not at all. I needed Him, the Lord. I needed the Light.
“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” John 8:12
And here, today, there is something about soft blue. I look at bathing suits, bowls, pajamas, and paintings and I find myself searching for the babiest of blues.
I painted two bibles light blue. We spent more time at the pool and beach last summer just to see blue, more blue. My favorite plates to hold my breakfast, blue. I go to the thrift store to buy clothes for Daisy baby and it’s all denim and sky blue. Why? Who!
Because soft blue, I’m beginning to see, means rest. It means peace.
It means I am unconditionally loved by Jesus. No striving, no earning. Just peace. I have given my life to Him. I follow in His righteous ways. I was transformed. The prodigal son, (well, daughter) came home. I repented, I still do. And now, peace.
It means I am fervently loved by my husband. Praise the Lord. In marriage, as Ryan and I abide with Jesus, as I submit to my groom, Jesus brings us such peace. To be held by my husband, comforted by him, to experience the tangible faithful love and pursuit of Christ in my own home through my husband, peace, such peace.
And motherhood, oh my, with all its chaos and sleepless nights, its scattered toys and tears, with everything it took to bear the pregnancy, labor, and childbirth of a baby, the peace, so supernatural, overwhelms the mayhem.
To hold my baby in my arms and rock her to sleep, to walk with her in the stroller under a clear sky, to read her a book, to listen to her laugh, to know she is mine, that I am her mama, that we are God’s children, is there any other way to describe the peace? When you know you are doing exactly what the Lord has called you to do, when you hold the child that the Lord has blessed you to raise, when you behold that you’ve never known a more powerful earthly love than when you look into your baby’s face. It’s nearly indescribable. The soft blue of motherhood, the miracle of peace.
Maybe next year or with the next baby, it will be green, earthy and outdoors, with grass blades stuck to squishy knees and shins, tending to houseplants, yes, I could see green. Or maybe it will be red, vibrant and colorful, with crayon scribbles on walls and little shoes by the door, bursting oranges, erupting in magentas and pinks, pink! Finally, perhaps, like a sunrise, like a bird, maybe, just maybe.
But for now, I am comfortable in soft blue, in the kitchen pouring morning coffee, the sound of tiny hands clapping from the highchair. I am breathing in slowly the wind on our afternoon walks, waving at the ducks, watching them scatter across the pond, picking wildflowers to squeeze and explore and crumple before heading back home. Yes, under the clouds and sky and our God-given roof, I will hold and savor, forever, this season of soft blue.
Katie Donohue Tona
“Come now, and let us reason together,”
Says the Lord,
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
They shall be as white as snow;
Though they are red like crimson,
They shall be as wool.” Isaiah 1:18
If you liked this, feel free to check out The Monthly Mother series in The Little Library of Writing with Jesus:
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I am also drawn to soft blues. Love your word play with colours in this post!! 💙
Being a first time mother to a one year old, this blessed me to pause and think about my changing preferences, the changes in my life, and how I should really really get back to writing. Thank you for sharing the things that bring you joy 😊