Love and Enabling

I never thought I would be one of the mothers who cried when her child went to kindergarten. It didn't compute in my mind. I'm excited for Asher's growth.  I'm happy that he is happy to go to school. And honestly, I'll just say it, I'm super excited to have one less child at home during the day!

But I cried that first day. I did. Not when I said goodbye or gave him a hug or when I got back to the van, but in the afternoon when I missed his presence. When I noticed how quiet the house was--the lack of aggression and multiple questions.

I missed Asher, but my tears on Tuesday had a lot to do with myself, too.

I didn't expect all the questions and insecurities that come with sending off: Is he okay? Does he know that I love him? Is he still nervous? I should have stayed longer this morning. I didn't even look around his classroom. When will I be in there again? I have no basis for what questions to ask him when he gets home. Does he believe me when I tell him God is with him? Will he pray if he feels scared? Will he talk to his classmates? PLEASE let him tell his teacher if  he needs to use the bathroom! Is he hungry? Should I have given him more for breakfast? Will the other kids be kind? Should I have done more to prepare him? 

Should I have done more?

A long time ago my mentor in college told me that she wished she had been my mother so that I would have had room to dance around a bit. That didn't really make sense to me at the time. But I get it now.

And a few years later, in counseling, I told my therapist that I wished my mom had helped me to be more confident in myself.
Her response: "Do you consider you mom to be a confident person?"
"No. No, not at all."
"Then how would she have empowered you to be more confident?"

I didn't have an answer, but I've thought about that a lot. And I think I've got it figured out. I know what a parent needs to do in order to raise brave, strong, comfortable, competent children.

BE MORE CONFIDENT!

YEAH!



Oh. Only one problem. I'M NOT.



I'm insecure like most of us. I second-guess myself constantly. I over analyze the effects of my decisions. I question my parenting philosophies all the time.

Confidence is no naturally occurring phenomenon in me.

But, as usual, God has been slipping me little notes of encouragement the last couple of days. I have only to open my eyes to find them.

I was up at 5 am Wednesday, having put Zim back to bed after his dire thirst issue, and was simultaneously researching symptoms of diabetes in children (anxiety issues, what can I say?) and reading my morning devotion. It had this from George MacDonald:

What God may hereafter require of you, you must not give yourself the least trouble about. Everything He gives you to do,you must do as well as ever you can. That is the best possible preparation for what He may want you to do next. If people would but do what they have to do,they would always find themselves ready for what came next. 

And I know I've shared this before, but tonight while reading The Jesus Storybook Bible before tucking in the boys, I came across this passage again 

       Jesus left the desert and set about the Great Rescue. He was going to get God's people back.       But first he needed to find some helpers and friends. He had a lot to do. He would need some people to help him. Who would make good helpers, do you think? Clever ones? Rich ones? Strong, important ones? Some people might think so, but I'm sure by now you don't need me to tell you they'd be wrong. Because the people God uses don't have to know a lot of things, or have a lot of things -- they just have to need him a lot.

Confidence is one word for it. But it's not my word.

If we stand on the other side of that word and look backwards, it looks a lot like trust. 

Trust or dependence.

I don't know if I will ever be confident in all my decisions, especially as a parent.

But I trust that God is plenty capable to take care of me and my children. Capable to calm the storm, to sit with us, to be Emmanuel, holding our hands and our hearts.

My kids exercise my mind in enormous ways. They sprint up and down the spectrum of erratic behavior that needs discipline, philosophical questions (that I would attribute to a child-genius) that need answers, and expressed emotions that need listening ears and empathy.

Just tonight, we talked about school, how Asher hasn't made any friends. How he never knows when it's okay to talk to somebody or if he is supposed to be quiet. I don't know how to help. I literally bribed him with candy to talk to someone tomorrow. Two minutes later he is yelling at me disrespectfully, losing privileges, and is in tears with emotion. An hour later, reading the Bible, he asks me, "But what made Judas' heart bad like that? Why did he want to hurt Jesus?" And while "sin" might be an easy answer, it's not an easy explanation. And then Zimrie chimes in, "The deviled egg made him do it. God threw that deviled egg down from heaven into the lava and killed him. But he turned into that snake." 

And then there's just way too many theological issues to sort out before bedtime.

Do I answer them too flippantly? In an effort to relay sound answers, do I answer them with too much? Can I just get them in bed because we are all exhausted and Jonah has a fever and I'm going on four hours of sleep and way too many emotions? 

These are the times I have to hold my boys, and myself, with open hands; to be present to the work that is before me; to say those simple prayers as Anne Lamott says, "Help me! Help me! Help me!" and "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" I also pray, "Oh for grace to trust him more."