How I've Been Blessed By the People Who Come Alongside Me as I Parent.
I glanced at the news and didn’t know whether to wrinkle my nose or bury my head in my hands. I know it has been said, but I will say it again, “What is this world coming to?”
And, “What can I do?”
The truth is, a lot of our cultural problems could be solved with good parenting, but, if the mom’s of today are anything like me, they are living in survival mode. They make decisions day to day, moment by moment, with full heads, bruised hearts, and exhausted bodies. We need help.
I think about the amazing women who have become “mothers” to me. Each have their own sweet styles of coming into my life and helping me. If you are a woman (or a man) in the more mature generation and feel drawn to helping young parents cope, I need to give you two very happy thumbs up.
I have found myself incredibly blessed by the advice and love of others as I parent. Especially in these ways:
If you want to change the world, change the life a mother or father. Come along side their journey as they do God’s precious work. We don’t need someone to do it for us, we need someone supporting our hearts and sanity as we move forward. And, we need the maturity, wisdom, and life perspective of that older generation to bring us out of survival mode and into joy in the journey.
A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed. Proverbs 11:25, NIV
Lessons I Learned Watching My Eldest Care for Her Little Sister
I stepped into my office and was assaulted by a disasterous collection of stickers, notecards, glue sticks, and glitter strewn across the large white craft table. I have no idea how my seven-year old had managed to make such a mess in the ten minutes left before the bus came.
She grinned and held up her creation. "Look, Mom, I made Micaela notecards so I can teach her more words."
My heart melted. The cards were gaudy with their flamboyant lettering. She proudly flipped through them and read the words.
Adela and Micaela have such an interesting relationship. Like all siblings, they fight and bicker, but Adela's heart is softened toward the difficult journey her sister has. She keeps her chin up even when Jovani and I are gone for days with Micaela for hospital stays and specialists. She understands the extra time Micaela demands as we help her eat, dress, potty, and keep her glasses on. As Adela matures, I see her stepping up more and more to help her sister progress.
Have you ever stopped and considered the older sisters in your life? We have ones we are raised with and others that God placed along side us. Our older sisters encourage us, cheer us on, and are there for laughter and tears.
One of my favorite sister memories was when I snuck into my sister's drawer and grabbed the intense, round, bristly brush she had told me not to touch. Exultant, I wrapped a chunk of hair around the brush and yanked, expecting a ringlet to emerge. Instead, the brush laid claim to my hair in a terrible impossible tangle. My sister came in. I ran, sobbing to a corner to hide my disaster. My sister followed, and without yelling, sat on the floor and began the slow process of detaching my hair from her brush. I felt unjudged. I felt loved. Many years later I shared that memory with her and she told me that she had done the same thing when she was little, so when I tangled myself up, it was easy to be kind.
We should be ever thankful that the sisters around us who know what we have been through and emphatically share our pain. May we also never miss the opportunity to help our little sisters get untangled.
What a blessing Micaela and Adela have in each other, one that will continue to bless them the rest of their lives.
Who are the God-given sisters, young and old, in your life?
How a Mother Feels When She No Longer Spends All Day Every Day with Her Child
My eyes traveled down the hall and settled on the door of Micaela's classroom. It was hard to keep my feet from picking up into a trot. "No running in the halls"... even for mommies.
I reached the door sporting a happy collection of kindergarten decorations and turned the knob. Micaela was waiting for me inside, her EA helping her cut out a pair of paper shoes for her paper person.
I took a seat at the child-size table, my knees coming up to my chest in the tiny chairs. Fascinated, I watched her pudgy fingers work the sissors up and down with the EA's guidance. Her little pink lips made a perfect "o" as she concentrated on her work.
My arms ached to hold her, but my mind and heart filled with a hunger I had never considered. I wanted to watch her like a biologist sitting before a beehive or astronomer measuring stars.
I wanted to know her.
I was hungry to know her.
Micaela has a limited vocabulary. Adela, as a kindergartener, would come home and tell me about the games she played at recess and complain about her homework. Learning about Micaela is a constant challenge. How I long to know what is going on in her sweet head.
However, I admit that I feel the same about Adela. I love having someone stop me and tell me what my girls did that day in school or have a friend recount a funny thing they said. I want to know if they ate their lunch and if it tasted good. I want to know when they were sad and what made them laugh.
I want to know everything. It is a hunger that makes me catch my breath.
Did God breathe this into me? A distant echo of what He feels about me? Of how He longs to be invited into to every intimate corner of my world? Or, is it an invitation to long for knowledge of our Abba Father the way we long to know the constantly progressing character of our loved ones?
Eventually, the shoes were cut out and my girl was handed back to my care. The EA let me know the answers to some of the mysteries: what she ate, what she learned, what made her angry, and how much she smiled. But, the challenge to know my girls continues.
I am so thankful for family dinners and bedtime prayers. They are the moments in daily life when I get to peek inside their world. I like to believe that my Heavenly Father thinks about me the same way, that He gobbles up our every conversation. That He anxiously awaits the moments that I come to Him, to be held inside His arms.
It is such a precious kind of hunger.
Are you eager to know and understand your loved ones better? How do you see this mirrored in your relationship with God?
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"...and God was already there with me."