As mothers, we are called to be the peace centres of our homes. A few months ago, I had an experience that brought this reality into sharp focus in a whole new way.
An emergency hospital trip
On 14 December 2024, my 6-year-old son fell off a top bunk bed and had a seizure. We called an ambulance, but he seemed okay at first. However, a few hours later, he started vomiting, and this time the paramedics took him to hospital.
A scan revealed a small bleed on his brain. There are no paediatric neurosurgeons where we live, so he was rushed to a Melbourne hospital that night in case surgery was needed. He was closely monitored for several days before being given the all-clear to come home.
A second chance
For several days, I lived with the possibility that my son could either die or be severely affected for the rest of his life.
I came to the brink of losing him — in all the glory of who he is. I came to the brink of never hearing his voice again, never seeing his smile again, never receiving a hug from him again. I truly looked death in the face, and in His goodness, the Lord allowed me to walk away again.
I feel like I’ve been given a second chance at motherhood.
A second chance to seize every opportunity to hug my children and savour their childlike softness. A second chance to be intentional about forming the relationships I want with my children in five years’ time, when they are 13, 11, 8, and 5. A second chance to lavish my children with unconditional love and undivided attention. A second chance to be the peace centre of my home, no matter the stormy chaos around me.
The moment I got the call from my husband, telling me the second scan showed the bleed was stable and my son was not in immediate danger — I never want to forget that moment.
I want to remember forever the tears of joy, immense relief, and gratitude.
I remember thinking at that moment: I don’t want to remain unchanged by this. I want this experience to profoundly change me. I want to be a different mother because of it.
What truly matters
I want to be a mother who is overwhelmed — in the best way — by the immense goodness, beauty, and preciousness of this life He has given me. I want to walk through my home as if I’m on holy ground.
I want to detach myself from what doesn’t matter and attach myself to what does — laughter, attention, prayer, and memories.
My children so beautifully and unreservedly give the gift of themselves. Think about it — no one greets you quite like your children! I want to reciprocate that joy.
Part of me wants to indulge in regret and shame over mistakes I’ve made as a mother, but in prayer, I felt Our Lord say to me:
It’s never too late to go home and love your family.
And so, I press onward. I take lessons from the past, but I don’t live there. Instead, I endeavour to live in how I’m choosing to move forward in the present.
The difference that peace makes
I’ve been surprised by how easily I could stay the same. Staying on autopilot, holding on to the same old thinking, habits, and excuses — it’s my brain’s default.
I know it’s not my change in circumstances that will change me: I must have an interior change. That change ultimately comes down to remaining at peace in all circumstances. When I reflect on moments I haven’t shown up as the mother I want to be, I can always trace it back to losing my peace.
Here are three simple truths I keep in mind to help me maintain peace:
1. My circumstances don’t create my peace. I do.
Did you know your thoughts create your feelings? If you really grasp this concept, it can change your life. How our kids behave, what our husbands say, the state of our homes, actions of in-laws, or big life changes — none of these have power to take away our peace unless we give them permission. What we tell ourselves about what’s happening creates our emotional experience — and how open we are to the Lord’s grace and movement in our hearts.
2. I am responsible for meeting my needs.
When we neglect our real needs, we grasp at things in desperation — reaching for phones, trying to control our kids, or retreating to the pantry for chocolate. If we slow down and ask, “What do I really need right now?” The answer might be: get outside, breathe, have a cup of tea, or pray. When we give our mind, body, and nervous system what they need, we build a foundation for God’s peace to penetrate our hearts. We engage with life in a fruitful way instead of escaping in desperation.
3. When my emotions are high, I lose access to my problem-solving.
Peace isn’t just about how we respond in the moment. It’s about how it impacts our ability to analyse what’s going on in our lives, in our kids, in our family, and in ourselves. When we consistently evaluate and solve problems productively, we move ourselves and our families towards more order and peace. Having greater capacity to protect our peace opens us to hear God’s voice — not just in prayer, but in the small moments throughout the day.
The power of a peaceful mum
We are called to be the peace centres of our homes.
Our peace is one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves and our families.
When Mum is stressed, no one wins.
When Mum is at peace, everyone wins.
If you’d like to explore this deeper, I highly recommend the book Catholic Mum Calm: Six Steps to Calm the Chaos of Everyday Life.
You may also enjoy reading Monica Elias’ article, ‘Overcoming Your Worst Nightmare.’
Monica Elias is a wife and mother of four young children living in Albury. She is a Catholic Time, Self-Care and Productivity Coach for women who want to master the art of making plans and actually following through. She loves basketball, cycling, kayaking, and books.
