Is it how healthy my son eats? How well-mannered he is? Is he keeping up with his peers socially and academically? Does he exhibit empathy for others? If his clothes don't match on picture day, does that count against me? If he isn't reading on his grade level, am I failing him? Do I fall short in spending quality time with him? Do I hug and kiss him too much?
Mothers have these thoughts. We do. We don't like to admit it, because it makes us sound like neurotic over-thinkers. But that's not really the case (at least, most of the time). We just love our babies, and we want them to be successful.
I've come a long way in giving myself a break as a mom. I have realized that I am not perfect, and that's OK (hence the name of my blog). I live every day in grace, because I have learned something really important. Something lots of people never really take hold of. In fact, it's something that skeptics think only the weak can embrace.
But I'm here to tell you, I've never felt stronger. Wanna know what it is?
First, let me take you back to a day about three years ago when I sat in the kitchen of a female spiritual mentor of mine shortly after my decision to move toward divorce from my then-husband. I sat with tears streaming down my face, having lost so much weight from stress that a size 2 was too big, utterly devastated with the knowledge that my life as I knew it was over. My family was broken. My son would never remember his parents as happy, loving partners. But there was something I got to learn during that time...FINALLY, completely, down to my core, got to learn. And this is the gist of what I said to her:
I've been a believer for most of my life, but I never really understood trust in God the way I do now. I trust Him completely, not because I am brave, or wise. It is because I have no other choice. I am at the end of myself. I realize that the only way I can survive this is to rely on Him one second at a time, because I literally don't know how to get to to the next one without Him carrying me. I don't have any strength left...none. And now, when I should feel like I'm about to fall off the edge of a cliff and never find my way out, I feel at peace. Because I know that the fact that I am still standing is only possible because God is holding me up. So you know what? I'm glad. I'm glad this is happening to me. Because some people live their whole lives in utter confusion trying to do everything in their own power. But I get to find this out at 37, and not when I'm gasping for my last breath at 85. So I'm thankful.
So now, we fast forward to the woman I am today, at this point in my journey. My life is infinitely happier than it was when I sat on that bar stool in my friend's kitchen. I literally can't believe how God has blessed my life in so many ways since then. Because of that, I am a very thankful person.
And most importantly, I am always mindful of the fact that I am totally and completely screwed without Jesus. That's the thing I learned. It doesn't sound like a deep spiritual truth. It doesn't rhyme. It's not on one of those e-card things that people post on Facebook. But oh, my friends, please believe me when I say that there is nothing truer.
Some days I feel like I am missing the mark as a parent. The only quality time I may get with my son is when I sit with him to his homework. I may give him a hot dog and gummies for dinner. He may go a weekend without real time with his friends because I wasn't organized enough to think ahead and plan a play date.
But in the end, I pray that I am living my life in such a way that my son will know at the center of his being that there is a God in heaven who will carry him through every single thing that happens to Him until his dying day...and as such, He can be trusted.
A little less than a year ago, my son was diagnosed with ADD. Kindergarten was a struggle that I can't fully convey. My very agreeable, very respectful child came home with low marks for behavior and sad faces from art and PE teachers. Homework resembled some sort of slow torture for him as well as his dad and me. He would cry almost Sunday night in anticipation of the coming school week, saying that he didn't want to learn...that learning made him sad. After pushing for in-school testing, we were able to have him approved for learning in a small group setting for approximately half his day. Things got somewhat better after that...but still, it was a difficult time. Any parent will tell you that there is nothing more heartbreaking than to watch your child struggle so and lose his joy over something you cannot control.
We tried medication. While it helped somewhat, he began to lose weight from a lack of appetite. We eventually decided to take him off the medicine when we started to see the hip bones jutting out on our already thin child.
I began trying some supplements over the summer. I felt like he was improving, but it was hard to tell in a summer camp setting, when no real structure or workload was imposed on him. The real test would come when he started first grade.
And here we are...almost two months into the school year. And amazingly, my little trooper is receiving rave reviews. He receives above-average behavior ratings several times a month. He does his homework almost completely independently, and he is reading at his grade level now. He received a behavior reward for "Respect" in a school assembly just two weeks ago.
To which I say...I don't know what happened. All I can say is that I am both astounded and thankful. There's no one factor that can definitively explain the change in my son's ability to perform at school. It's probably a combination of lots of things. But I can tell you that I pray about this issue with my son. We lift it up to God's hands to help him through his day. When we pray, I say, "we can't do it without You, Jesus!" Because we can't. I know this from experience.
Now that I've framed this story properly, I want to share my son's prayer at bedtime tonight...and my measuring stick as a parent became a bit clearer as a result:
Dear Jesus, thank you for a good day. I trust you to help me sit quietly when it's time. You help me to listen to my teachers and do what they say when they say it just once. Thank you.
I walked out of his room completely humbled. My baby trusts Jesus completely...with something that may just represent the biggest struggle in his six-year-old existence.
Maybe I'm doing OK after all.
