I don’t know about you but I have gotten the nasty looks from women when my kids throw a fit in the middle of target. I have seen the laser beams dart out from annoyed eyes towards the mama whose baby is crying his way through worship songs at church. I have read the public letters that go viral addressed to the mama at the park who dares to look at her phone instead of her kids.

I will never forget my bestie calling me a few years ago after a little old lady got all up in her business in the Hobby Lobby parking lot for not making her toddler son wear socks in the 40 degree chilly weather. This lady used words that would make Amy Schumer blush. Clearly, the dear old lady forgot what it was like to have a toddler son and the sheer accomplishment it is to even get him dressed!

Every time this happens to me, (most often with nasty glares in the grocery aisles because IT ALWAYS HAPPENS IN THE GROCERY AISLES!) I want to let the tears flow. My heart is saying, “Don’t you know I brushed my teeth to be here? Don’t you remember the panic that rushes through your veins when your baby cries and you know that it is totally up to you to meet his or her every need? Don’t you remember the thankless years of raising infants around the clock? Can’t you see me? I am tired and weary but I am here. I brought my best.”

Its the cry of every mama. We live in this culture of do-it-all and have-it-all and keep-it-all-together. But really, we can’t and we don’t. We make it. We make it through the sleepless nights. We make it through the teething. We make it through the can’t-get-out-of-sweat-pants-and-put-a-bra-on-to-save-my-life stage. And every once in a blue moon, mamas venture out into the real world to get a breath of fresh air before they head back to the sacred space raising up a little human.

Most often when this happens to me, I rush home, often put the kids in front of the tv so I can I pour out my heart to the Lord in a stolen moment of solace, “Oh Father, today I feel weary and frazzled. Do I have value as a mom or am I just an annoyance to the watching world? Do you see me? Does what I am doing even matter?”

Oh, He is ever near to the hurting. The Spirit speaks to my heart.

Jesus died because he saw me. My mind darts to Zacchaeus, to the bleeding woman who grabbed his tassels, to the woman at the well, to the children who wanted time with him. Jesus saw them all. All the hurting, all the needy, all the frazzled ones, He sees them. And he lived a perfect life in their place, because he knew that they were utterly incapable. Though his glory and righteousness knew no end, He died a criminal’s death on the cross for us. Because He sees us, all the tired and desperate, he conquered death and rose again.

Because my Jesus saw me, came for me, died for me, rose victorious for me, and sent His Spirit to dwell in me, I can live a transformed life. I can move from defeated to renewed and refreshed because my Risen Lord promises to make me new over and over and over again.

Oh indeed, he sees us weary mamas. And though I was embarrassed and defeated for a moment today, all He has for me is goodness. When the laser eyes make their way to you, or you feel stomped on and unnoticed, He sees you. The Gospel is our assurance. We are seen, loved, and doing a holy job by the power of his mighty Spirit.