The overly used and commonly unkind phrase “just wait” fills hearers hearts with dread and causes them to doubt God’s goodness. It robs both new moms and even seasoned moms of rest in gospel realities. Christ himself is our peace—he has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing by law and reconciling us both to God in one body through the cross (Ephesians 2:14). Shouldn’t he also be our peace in all stages of our parenting?

It was a hot summer morning, and I desperately needed to get out of the house. The kids were wild with boredom, and I longed for a little grown-up interaction, so I spent all morning trying to make a morning playdate while battling temper-tantrums, lost shoes, and lunch packing. I herded the kids like cats until they finally all piled into the van. When we all unloaded and descended on the playground, I felt like I’d run a marathon and someone should put a medal around my neck.

Swollen and pregnant, I waddled toward the other moms gathering under a shaded pavilion. Noticing my apparent look of weary exasperation, a mom with much older kids approached me and jokingly asked how I was doing. I rambled off a list of the morning’s mishaps, noting my weariness.

That’s when it happened—she breathed the one phrase that enslaves moms in any season: “Just wait.” The words seemed to come out in slow-motion, growling their fearful warning.

Her curt words were followed by more frankness: “You’re pregnant; it will only get harder once the baby comes. I had four. Just wait. Small kids, small problems. Big kids, big problems.” Her ominous words seemed to trail off, as I panicked in a fictional world of fears.

What We’re Hearing

Puzzled by her insensitivity, I mentally checked out for the remainder of the “fun” playdate. What was I supposed to do with her words?

Maybe she was trying to relate, to empathize with my struggles. But compassion wasn’t what I heard. Instead, I heard, “It’s only going to get worse from here. You’d better give up now, because there’s no way you can handle what’s coming.”

At that moment, all rational sense of dependence on God’s promises slipped my mind. I spiraled into despair, wondering how I would possibly survive, let alone thrive in this parenting gig. She was probably right—my rowdy toddlers were bound to end up sociopaths or prison inmates. Though I’d come to the park looking for some sort of encouragement in the exhausting trenches of parenting, I felt more wounded and discouraged than ever.

What We’re Saying

I can’t vilify the “just wait” mom who scorned me without admitting that I have been this same mom before—popping off to young moms with the same hurtful words. Even after absorbing the impact and feeling the pain of the “just waits” more than a few times, I still regularly catch myself standing on the precipice of pride—wanting to toss my stone-like words at younger and less experienced moms.

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