11282016 Jesus and Judges
Dear Loves,
I’ve been out in the world this week, and it’s sad and tough and harsh. There are so many people who think they have all the answers, yet I’m not really sure they do. You know, the more I think about it, the more I wonder where they come up with their answers. Surely you can’t gain all the wisdom in the world from any one book. I’m cautious as I think about the ways you’re changing, and the things that are happening. I’m trying to make sure I’ve done enough, taught enough, tried enough. Because soon enough, you’re going to be in the place where you’re making decisions all on your own. Who am I kidding? At 8 and almost 6, you already are making your own decisions. You’re just still small enough that I can control the consequences. Except that I can’t. Not really. Not if I want you to learn how to adapt and grow and figure stuff out on your own. I have to let you fall. I have to be your home base and nothing more.
I once heard this quote: “there comes a time in our children’s lives when we are no longer their manager, but we move into the role of consultant.” I strive for that role; the one where you consult me instead of depending on me to manage you. Right now, your time, activities, and goals are all under my management, and I hope and pray that I’m managing it well. Truth be told, I don’t even manage my own time, activities, and goals well, so how can I be doing it well for you? Oh loves, I just don’t know how to do it all. I’m just a first-time momma, and I’m trying as hard as I can to get it right for you.
When you were born, I told the doctor to be careful, because you’re our retirement plan. It was a total joke. Then, I told my friends who were carefully preparing for their children to go to college, that I wasn’t saving for your college tuition, I’m saving for your therapist. Which was also a total joke. Except, if I screw this up, it might be a joke that has some truth to it. Look, remember all the times I told you that I hate lies? I despise lies. I can’t be in a relationship with people who lie. Yeah, well, I guess this is where I don’t lie, and I break it to you with all the tenderness that one momma can conjure.
The truth is that I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been a mom before, and you know what? There’s no training course for parenting beyond the first few months. They actually teach an hour session about how to breathe through the pain of labor, and they teach an hour session on how to squeeze your boob just right to feed you. I’ll never be able to eat a cheeseburger again without thinking about breastfeeding. They teach a course on child safety, and how to properly fix your car seat into the car, and then how to make sure the straps are just the right amount of tight. Bow tie, not cummerbund. Another thing I won’t forget. They teach how to co-sleep, how to sleep train, how many wet and dirty diapers you should have in a day, and the developmental milestones you should reach at each interval up until your 2nd birthday. And then, the experts sort of go silent.
There isn’t any advice on what to do when your 5-year-old is academically advanced, yet socially behind; there’s no clear-cut guideline on exactly the perfect moment to send your kid to school, except by age 6, which is the law. Nobody tells you whether it’s a big mistake to teach you about Santa Claus or neglect to teach you about Jesus. There’s nothing written that says there has to be a tooth fairy or Easter bunny. I thought I had it all figured out – what I wanted to teach you. Except then every kid in school talked about Mr. Claus and the Elf on the Shelf, and they taught you in preschool and kindergarten to write letters to Santa Claus. What if I didn’t want you to learn about that jolly old elf???? Did I get a say in that? No. Of course, I just had to punt that day and let you believe what you want because, in the whole world, there is not one person who can really tell you what to believe. I’m smart enough to know that. I was smart enough in the 2nd grade when I’d found out my parents were lying about it. I guess lying is a pretty strong word. When I lost the magic and ruined my parents’ joy in my innocence forever. I digress.
I’m doing the best I can. There’s no warning that tells you that today is the day you’ll discover your kids are going to turn into something you never imagined or planned. When we found out Line was a girl, both of us were adamant – NO PINK! Of course, all of our friends thought that was an invitation to buy every pink item east of the Mississippi, and although we tried to dress her in camo and gender-neutral colors, she still became a princess who loves high heels and make-up. Seriously, I don’t even own a pair of heels. And Fritz, he’s a prep, and the ONLY time Beef ever dresses up is funerals and weddings and even then it’s a golf shirt and khakis. My children have never seen their dad “fancy”. I doubt they ever will. How did they become these people? Who whispered “you need to dress up and be fancy” in their ears??? I know it was someone who was holding them in infancy. Had to be. Because it surely isn’t a learned behavior.
I’m doing the best I can with the tools I have. Here’s what I had when you were born: an example of parenting from my parents and daddy’s parents and watching our friends parent their kids. But none of those parents parented you. None of them know you cry when you know you’ve done wrong. None of them see you when you run up to me and hug me as I return from a trip to the grocery store – as if I’d been gone a month. They don’t understand that you’re so sensitive to voice tone, that when I increase my voice by a decibel you refer to it as “the mean voice” and you’re feelings are hurt, and sometimes, you plug your ears. I don’t have to spank you – I just have to raise my voice and you mostly listen.
I could be like some, and spank you every time you mess up. Most people “appreciate” that kind of parenting. They refer to it as “good enough for me”. But I don’t see it like that. You’re a person. Albeit a very immature one, you’re still a person, and I believe that you can make good choices. I really do. I have confidence in you that you can do great things; and when you don’t, I tell you that it will be hard for me to trust you when you’re a teenager – and it really will be. I am more of a rational thinker. I don’t like flying off the handle and being unreasonable, because I don’t think it solves any problems. You are both excellent problem solvers! Truly! You amaze me at the ways you can work around a problem. When something is in your way, you either figure out how to move it or you work your way around it. There’s just no stopping you. If I spanked you every time you did something I didn’t approve of, what would that teach you? Hmm… I think it teaches you that if I don’t like something – you get hit. I’d truly rather teach you how to coexist with someone who doesn’t share the same views and opinions as you. I’d rather teach you to respect people for being individuals than teach you to conform with a heavy hand. It’s probably the rebel in me that thinks that way. Pops always called me the flower child. He had that part right. I don’t think like others, and I’m okay with that. It helps me be creative when you go outside the boundary. I don’t have to spank you, because I can sentence you to community “service” or not let you sit on my furniture if you don’t know how to treat others property (ok, so that was daddy’s grand scheme, but I’d like to think I taught him to think outside the box!).
I like that you care about my heart and my feelings. I like that you emulate my concern and compassion when someone else is hurting. I just worry that one day, you’ll be the one hurting and someone will judge you for it. I worry that when you’re older and we fight, and we will; that you’ll do something and it will be in the heat of the moment, and there will be people who will hold it against you for a very long time. I worry about that because I see it happening every day. I’m new at this parenting thing, so I’m trying to catch my brains up to society’s ills. I’m worried because some of these judging people will be related to you, and share your genetics. So I’m working really hard to teach you to like yourself. To value who you are as a person too. Because while it’s so nice to value everyone else, it’s more important to know your true value in Jesus. If you love Him first, then you will be able to love others with confidence. If you let Him love you, you’ll be able to love yourselves completely. And loving yourself completely, in my opinion, will help you to become the very best version of yourself. You won’t want to hurt yourself by making poor choices. You might think twice about the consequences if you’re concerned with your testimony for Jesus. Maybe you’ll be able to forgive yourself more easily when you know what’s been done in the work of Christ for you, and then, maybe you won’t have to mask your feelings with drugs or alcohol. And maybe, just maybe, if you learn that all things come from God, and you don’t have any power or control anyway – then it might be possible that you don’t feel pressured to judge others or expect them to be perfect or powerful or whatever the “thing” is. Maybe you would just be able to love people right where they are, like Jesus does, and point them to Him; so that they might know real peace.
I’m not perfect kids. Mommy has made a lot of mistakes, and sadly, I’m gonna make a whole lot more. Just please, please know that I love you so much more than either of us can put into words or pictures. My heart is for you, my life is for you, my prayers are with you. I love you with my whole heart, always and forever, and not one minute less.
Be kind to yourself, and to others. Jesus commanded it.
Love, Me.
Momma Rich's 