Being a Wholly Devoted Parent

 The most recent battles in my mind have been doubts deposited by others about the way my husband and I have devoted ourselves so wholly to our children.

People have commented on what I have "given up" to be a mother and how I could (by that they often mean "should") do so much good of I wasn't so misled in my devotion.  I have two responses to this. First, a confession:  I do know that in my zeal and love for my children there have many things I have by default chosen to neglect; certain friendships in the way of nights out or time spent, a work life outside my home (not the physical building of home but the neglect of things not associated with family life) and other activities encompassing this range of activity.  There are also things I have chosen to turn from with full awareness.  The other response is this:  I am wholly unapologetic and without regret.  On the contrary, I remain what I believe will be eternally grateful for the lives of my children and the joy their very existence brings to me.

What informs my hope and joy is the knowledge that this life is but a shadow of things to come.  I watch them struggle and I pray for their genuine joy.  I watch them hit their stride and I rejoice with them.  My oldest daughter has left home to discover in a genuine way what her life's quest will be.  She is only 18, but is supporting herself and living on the opposite coast from where she grew up and from where things are familiar.  A braver, kinder soul you will not likely meet.  Am I pollyannaish and naive about the dangers she faces?  Absolutely not.  But, neither is she. I pray fervently and send her what she probably sees as annoying text messages a couple of times a month. We send her small gifts which in her heightened state of adventure and risk taking probably seem at worst like an intrusion or at best, a  nuisance.  Will that stop me?  I laugh.  Does my heart grieve because I cannot see her face and hold her close to my own body?  Does anyone ever ask a mother that with the expectation of any answer other than "duh?" She is making a life and discovering friendship and the meaning of love.  She has a canvas before her and is now writing her story.  To say I love her unreservedly would imply I had ever held anything in reserve for her.  I am wholly devoted to her and love her with all that I am.  To write it has a diminishing effect but write it I must.  I simply do not want what I experience to be defined and therefore imprisoned within literary limitations.  There is life to my love for her.

My second daughter just earned her driver's permit yesterday. Another milestone.  Every birth reminds me of the original birth-entry into this world.  For nine months I had her to myself.  She was protected and nurtured inside my own body.  Her entry into the outside world was the first in a series of "letting go'.  I shared her first with my husband and then to a gradually enlarged circle of trusted family/friends.  (I am not leaving God out as I believe He was the one sharing form the start).  She is involved in all manner of activities which appeal to her strengths and sensibilities.  She is loving and joyful and I am consciously preparing for her eventual departure.  How am I doing this?  By heaping prayers onto her life and by stuffing in last minute joys and happinesses that she will carry away and hold dear .

My son will be 13 in a couple of weeks.  How does a third child also steal a mother's heart?  I have maintained from the birth of my second child that a new heart is given with each child.  They have never had to share my heart, they each have it totally to themselves.  My son is wise beyond his years and has abilities of discernment which can only be a gift from God.  He is like any boy his age in many ways of course, but in this way he is not:  he is mine.  He leaves the front door open every time he enters or exits the house.  I believe this is a window into how his soul functions.  He doesn't like to keep his room clean, but I believe this is a reticence to grow older because he has experienced the wonders of childhood and doesn't know how to negotiate growing older with staying youthful.  I must love him by teaching him the joys of getting wiser and by teaching him that age is an illusion of time. I want him to know that he will never have to let go of wonder-only to learn how to embrace it more fully.  I love him as I do the others by focusing on what goodnesses I can bring to his life -to bring him Joy and Truth and  to equip him for his eternal calling.

Today, my youngest son is five.  We will celebrate by doing his favorite activities with him and by eating his favorite foods.  Just as I did with his sisters and brother I wipe away his tears when he is sad. I sing to him at night and pray for him in my waking hours and likely in my sleep. I read to him, prepare his favorite foods and buy him little toys and favors that bring a smile to his heart.  We often play at the beach together and I laugh at his enjoyment of the waves and sand.  I am teaching him simple things like how to make food and how to clean up.  He has a sense of humor and an explosive personality that delights.

What have I given up by being "mom?"  I have given up on selfishness.  My children have taught me that selfishness is boring.  My husband and I have reoriented our whole lives and well-being toward theirs.  We share these hidden sacrifices.  As we grow in our understanding of love we expand our love for them and of course for each other.  Someday, we will be just the two of us again and what stories we will have.  We have no regrets about the love we have poured out over their lives.  They are the gift to us.  Have we wet our pillows with tears?  Yes.  Have we loved until our hearts had to expand for threat of bursting?  Yes.  Have we any regrets over such a love that has been given us?  I laugh.

Last Thought of This Evening

 A combination of Psalm 84 and Psalm 90 from David, Isaac Watts and Vaughan Williams.
I want to teach my children to count their days and to understand the benefits of a fully integrated life with God. I want them to experience wonder at the thought of Him and the security that a life with Him brings. Maybe it will not bring them fleeting securities of wealth or fame, but it will bring the knowledge and assurances  and peace that a life with God offers.  This temporal life is a beginning and we are working and playing in that knowledge.   I had the pleasure of listening to the St Matthew's Choir sing this on Sunday and it was beautiful indeed.
http://stmatthewsnewport.com/resources/audio-and-sermons/preacher/st-matthews-choir/

O how amiable are thy dwellings: thou Lord of hosts!

My soul hath a desire and a longing to enter into the courts of the Lord:

My heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God.

Yea, the sparrow hath found her a house,

and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young:

even the altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.

Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will be always praising thee.

The glorious Majesty of the Lord our God be upon us:

prosper thou the work of our hands upon us.

O prosper thou our handywork, O prosper thou our handywork.

O God our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come,

Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home.

Goodnight to Genevieve, Leticia, Randall and Scott

Snow Cone Machines

When I lost the presidential election for student council in the fifth grade, it hit me.  It had never even occurred to me to lie to the entire student body to win.  Mike promised a snow cone machine and even my cousin fell for it.  Looking back I remember the shock and denial and all the other stages of grief that I went through at the tender age of nine.  My opponent had lied and worked the system.  This same scenario has been my traveling companion from that day onward.  The experience was particularly sad because Mike was my boyfriend.  "Only a friend can betray a friend, a stranger has nothing to gain."

We expect the outside world to hurt us, but those in our inner circles can cause great damage by betraying a trust. To hear the voice of ridicule or feel the wrath of ambition from a stranger is off-putting, surprising or the more benign attempts even funny.  To hear it from a beloved friend is devastating and its presence corrodes our well-being.  What if they are right? What if I...(fill in the blanks)? If the ridicule comes anywhere near family of origin horrors, darkness can settle in for days.