“So do not fear; I will provide for you and your little ones.” Thus he comforted them and spoke kindly to them.”Genesis 50:20-21 ESV
I remember when she used to smile at me during those early mornings while everyone was asleep except for the nursing moms. I would sing her lullabies until my husband would take the next shift. He would come out of the bathroom and say, “Every time, I wake up I see Ema kissing the baby.” We would laugh in our tired new parent selves and I would keep kissing her. She will always be my baby.
Now she dances, sashays, échappés and twirls throughout the room. She’s the ninja ballerina with all the specialized spy equipment. I love her flare and everything she is becoming. She smiles and asks to do her school routine because she wants to know how to spell words. She reads all the Mo Willems books and makes up her own version of the Pigeon stories. I love her passion for reading and her curiosity for the wonders of the world.
Yesterday she performed so beautifully on stage with her friends for the very first time. She performed to the lullaby version of Purple Rain. I could see each year of my baby’s life in that song and I am so thankful for the opportunity to see her in her beautiful purple tutu. I was so proud of her and then,
Imagine your favorite song, the music misses a beat
and the record
After the recital, she received a medal on stage. I was expecting to see her happy, but she wasn’t. A perfect moment it was not, but a vital lesson was unfolding. She wanted to receive the trophy and not the medal. The trophy was for the five year participants. She is four and this is normal, but it was still the time for a lesson. Normally, I am embarrassed when these things happen because I don’t know who is watching. I’ve had all kinds of comments from all ends of the discipline style spectrum. What judgement will I be handed now?
” She’s homeschooled and therefore that’s why she can’t handle this. ”
“She’s four. There’s no use in explaining this to her. ”
“You should just empathize with her and console her. ”
“She’s an only child and can’t take losing.”
“Stop spoiling her, she’ll figure it out.”
“She’s just used to getting everything she wants.”
“You should have a perfect child. You’re a teacher. (I actually haven’t heard this one, but a lot of teachers have felt this way from time to time.)
Conclusion: You’re a terrible mother according to everybody in the past and in my mind.
How do I know this? I used to be a teacher. I know the behind the scenes comments about parents and their only children, unschooled children, homeschooled children, etc.
I am not upset by this. I understand not understanding.
Fortunately, that isn’t what happened, but the loudest critic lives in my head, and his name is the Accuser.
I purposed on Friday not to let this critic shake my faith. If I indeed have a maker who knows me and formed me, I will respect how He has shaped my motherhood. I am hypoglycemic, so that means my speech slurs and so I don’t respond as quickly as other mom’s do. I wait for the words to make their way out of my lips. That moment was actually a good blood sugar moment. I asked my daughter if she would like to pray. She didn’t, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from praying.
She was upset about this for the next few minutes and calmed down. We rode in the car and this still bothered her in spite of what we said. My “figure it out yourself mode” wasn’t on at the time. I just kept thinking that this was a lesson and that she would understand later. We talked about the girls being older and having lots of years of participation. Of course, four year olds don’t have the same concept of time as adults do, but I purposed to be calm and talk.
She still kept talking to Daddy about wanting the trophy when we arrived at the restaurant but eventually she ate and then she asked us to pray for her. That was the end of the conversation and we talked about riding her bike. Later, she told me she liked her medal.
I do believe there are moments for everything. In all my years of working with regular education children and some with high needs, I’ve seen all kinds of beautiful people blossom. Not every child is the same and not every one needs the same response. I value what I have learned in my training as a teacher. All that PD has come in handy. What I have found out as a mother is that I have a greater freedom to make my teaching more fruitful if I allow the Holy Spirit to take the lead. I ask myself sometimes if I put God in a box. Do I make Him out to be what I want Him to be or do I ever let go and Let God? If I have all the answers beforehand will I ever be amazed at His power? I do think the Holy Spirit can discipline my child when I can not. This keeps me from being harsh and critical of her and my own self.
Praying doesn’t mean I just ignore my daughter it just means I don’t have to know it all to be a good mom. He wants me involved but He also wants me to trust Him. That imperfect moment was made perfect by Him; and it wasn’t just my daughter learning a lesson, I was learning one too.
The day ended in peace and my morning begins with hope. What gives you hope today?