the wisdom of my lady

when looking for wisdom and insight into parenting, does one really need to look further than the dowager countess of grantham? granted she is character in the fictional world of “downton abbey”. i think, however, this might actually work in her favor. when normal people, you know people who know and love you and who actually exist, give you advice, one doesn’t tend to value it nearly as much as one ought. but dress a woman in period costume, give her a upper class british accent and plunk her down in the midst of manor house glamor and suddenly we are hanging on her every word.

on the topic of parenthood, violet crawley of “downton abbey” delivers some zingers. a personal favorite of late is this one: “one forgets about parenthood. the on and on-ness of it.” a rather obvious fact, that parenthood is an ongoing, years in the making process but in the midst of it, i can forget the forest for the trees. there is always so much in the immediate that demands my attention that i can forget to see the years of parenting i have before me.

in the diaper changing, breastfeeding, sleep-deprived haze of the past, the years ahead seemed remote, a glimmer in the distant future. a place where everyone could tie their own shoes and wipe their own behinds seemed as likely as flying cars and people living on the moon. but now here i am, living in the glimmering independence of self-shoe tying and behind wiping and i see how far this road really goes. life long commitments are like that.either you die soon after making them, hardly ideal, or they last a really long time.

long ago, i accepted that there was no arrival point in marriage, no place to which you “arrived” as a couple, no place where it there were no longer struggles or where compromise was no longer required. there was no happily ever after. there was happiness but it wasn’t a natural bi-product of being married. it required a lot of self-sacrifice and hard-work.

i  have finally realized the same is true of parenthood. i knew about the work and sacrifice part but i associated much of that with the physical demands of younger children. now that my kids are older, i see us moving into a new phase, one that requires a great deal of work but of a different nature. it’s relational work. figuring out what makes each one of them tick, how to make them feel love, how best to communicate constructive criticism without dashing little egos. taking time to teach them the things they need to know and throwing a little bonding time in the midst of life lessons. it’s helping little hands make dough instead of doing it myself or watching action adventure movies instead of romantic comedies. cheering from the sidelines and chauffeuring from here to there and back again.

i think i was waiting for the place where parenting started to get easy, where it was natural and effortless. but as her ladyship says it doesn’t get easier. it goes on and on. and that’s a good thing. we get the amazing privilege of investing in our children for decades. we get to watch them grow and to connect in ways that aren’t possible when they are young. it’s a bit scary as the stakes seem so much higher. their mistakes are no longer solved with a magic eraser and a timeout. but it’s thrilling at the same time. to quote my lady one last time “it’s so encouraging to see the future unfurl. as long as you remember it will bear no resemblance to the past.”

mother’s day top ten list: part two

…as i was saying

number five: there are no monsters under your bed. as a parent, i find monster fears challenging on two levels. first of all, i feel sad and helpless, watching my youngster, who is obviously terrified, attempt to go upstairs on her own. nothing i say or do can convince her that i would never knowingly place her in harm’s way. secondly, though, i feel frustrated. “don’t you trust me? don’t you think i know what i am talking about?” how often do i stand before God, lip quivering, accusatory glare blazing? what monsters do i imagine He has placed in my path when in reality i have nothing to fear?

number four: try to keep things in perspective. my favorite part of getting older is the gift of perspective. the little things seem, well, littler. my kids can be having “the best day ever” and five minutes later, all the good is forgot and the day is “ruined.” i may be older and wiser but not too much so. i have to constantly remind myself to look beyond the immediate and see the pattern of provision and salvation God has woven into His plan for my life. He is weaving for me “the best life ever” if i will just trust Him.

number three: be grateful for what you have. i am amazed at the endlessly unsatisfiable nature of my children. no sooner have i loaded the dishwasher from lunch and they are already asking what is for dinner. if we go to the movies, now we need popcorn and drinks and don’t forget the ice cream on the way home. i wish i were any better with my Heavenly Father but so often He has no sooner answered one prayer then i have the next request ready and waiting. if only i could learn to be content with what He has given already.

number two: two wrongs don’t make a right. do i really need to give an example? the vicious cycle of retribution among children speaks for itself. the hatfield and macoy feud must have been started by kids. and yet, within myself is a capacity for grudge holding and self-justification that makes them look like UN peacekeepers. if only i would trust God as the ultimate Judge and remember with great humility how it is that i will be found innocent before His throne.

number one: Jesus loves me this I know. the foundational truth through which all other truths flow. i should be a disney princess, frolicking through the forest while small animals trail behind me as i sing of my Savior. He hasn’t delivered me from a dragon or evil stepmother. He has delivered me from the gates of Hell. and more besides, because He has delivered me from myself. from the dragon and evil in my own heart.

this mother’s day may we all humbly praise God for the blessings He has granted. let us remember Jesus weeping over jerusalem, longing to gather His people under His wing like a mother hen. Lord, may i be found under Your protection always.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Lately a question I dread being asked more than “What’s for dinner?” is “So, Amy, how are you guys doing?” There have been plenty of times in my life when this question would have prompted a 20 minute, uninterrupted outpouring of confessional desperation: “This child isn’t having a hard time getting along with his siblings and I don’t know what to do!” “This child seems to be getting lost in the shuffle and again, I don’t know what to do!”  But that isn’t why a good-natured inquiry into my family’s state of affairs has me feeling ill-at-ease of late, though I still don’t know what to do about most of the things which transpire in under our roof.

It isn’t how we are doing I wish to avoid focusing on but what. Because my answer these days sounds more like a color commentator than a mom. “Well, Bailey’s team plays tonight. Sam and Maggie have practice tomorrow.” If I am not sitting lakeside making sure no one takes a shovel to the head, I am parked along the first base line trying to strike the careful balance between supportive encouragement and screaming maniac.

I think there is much to be gained from the kids playing organized sports. If I didn’t, the shape of my rear end would not have been permanently altered by the hours I have spent sitting on unforgiving metal bleachers. But never in all imaginings of my future life did I dream I would send so much time shouting things like “You’ve got this buddy! Way to watch!”

And while I keep telling myself, it’s just this one month of the year devoted to my children’s future Major League careers, I can’t help but consider how my willingness to sacrifice regular bedtimes, family dinners and a significant amount of our family resources   is a reflections of our values. I am willing to pack seemingly endless numbers of tuna sandwiches, snack size chips and water bottles in order for them to play a game. A game they can learn from, make friends through, etc but a game nonetheless. True, it’s a season  but am I willing to make similar types of sacrifices for the more eternal pursuits of life.

How am I investing my time in energy into my kid’s spiritual lives? Am I supplying them with the living water they need to sustain them? Encouraging them to practice the disciplines they will later in their spiritual careers? Am I on the sidelines cheering them on? How often have I mentally whispered “Please don’t ask to pray. Please don’t ask to pray.” as I was putting them to bed at night because I was “too tired” to give up five more minutes of my time?

Baseball season has taught my kids some good lessons this summer. Lessons about teamwork, perseverance, etc. But I have learned a few lessons too. Lessons about prioritizing the eternal over the temporal, about sacrificing of myself without fear of having nothing left for myself. Thank goodness God isn’t holding me to the three strikes your out policy. His mercies never come to an end.