I love my kids so much. But I am not blind to their
weaknesses. I see areas of life
in which they struggle now, or that may cause issues as they grow, and I fret,
and I pray, and I add millimeters to the furrows in my brow. They are each so different; I see bits of
Mark and me evidenced in different ways in each, but also find myself wondering
of all three of them--where did you
come from?-- as I see something utterly unique in something they have said
or done. When they were really little,
and even up to a few years ago, I didn’t have enough margin in my head to see
some of these things, which is why I’m glad I have pictures. Now they’re big enough that I can see forward
into futures I hope they might have, to the people I hope they might be, and
the responsibility of parenting seems so present and real.
Don’t get me wrong—it always has been a responsibility, and
always challenging in different ways.
This is just a new place I am as I appreciate where we are as a
family.
In any case, as I look at where we are and where we’ve been
on our parenting journey, I am grateful for much. Not least of which is that we are not
alone. We are part of school communities
and church communities and friend groups that are a goldmine of “how did you
handle it when…?” conversations.
But even more than that, I am grateful that Mark and I
aren’t the only adults my kids have in their lives. I have seen adults drop to the ground and sit
and talk with my upset child as they sat alone.
I have received a text from an adult to simply tell me my child was
“cute” as they were both at an event I wasn’t attending. I have watched in wonder as a friend of mine
sat and listened to my child-with-many-words talk as if there weren’t another
thing in the world that needed doing. I
sat quietly and observed a teacher at church meet challenging behavior with
love and understanding that allowed me to see my child in a new light and to
change how I handled parenting at home. When
unable to execute some basic mommy-ing after I broke my wrist, I saw my child
thrive as a friend of mine took care of some things I physically couldn’t. I stared open-mouthed as my normally quiet
and retiring teen not only said hello but gave one of those weird guy-hugs to
an adult leader one morning as we walked into church.
And these are just a few examples.
A scripture verse I come back to over and over starts like
this, from Isaiah 43:4--
Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you….
It strengthens my heart every time—God sees me as precious
and honored, and He loves me! When we
sing Good Good Father with the kids at church, I always remind them of who they
are because of Jesus: LOVED. That’s the only identity that matters to
them. I desperately want that for my
babies. Heck, I desperately want that
for me!
But I forget. And
even though I love them desperately, my actions are not always from love, and I
say hurtful things, and just generally do a poor job of letting who I am in
Christ shine through as I interact with these not-so-little people that God has
entrusted to my care. And it’s in those
moments where I am reminded, and so grateful, that we are surrounded by people
who—at times--do a better job of reminding my kids of exactly who they are in
Christ, than I do, simply by seeing
them and loving them well. Time—big or
small--invested in kids is never wasted; it matters, and I'm so grateful for the many people who have impacted our family.
