Tuesday, June 16, 2015

the swing dance of parenting

He's learning to husband me and it's beautiful, though sometimes it hurts.
He's occassionally out of line and out of place and a bit wonky.

He puts on a front, pretending not to care about any thing, including the things I know he really truly does care about. I'm reminded of myself and how I pretended for so long, how I erected a facade to portray a stronger than I was image.

We're not sure what to do with him. My groom and I wring our hands in angst as we try every approach to reach him, including stepping back and letting him be.

Parenting is a responsibility that requires stick-with-it-ness.

Maybe one of these days we'll say something that will make a difference, so we keep trying.

He's only ten and yet, he's going to be the (much older) big brother. Our life reflects a very different kind of story than most people we know with their kids scripted to be 18 months to two years apart.

We didn't script our life, though I wanted to and tried to -- many a times.

And here we are, battling it out day by day with this tween who knows we cannot make him do a darn thing.

He puts up a stink when we say things and someone told me the other day that it's good, he's learning to stand up for himself. I tuck that away in my Hope-file.

I'm learning to love him as he is and not pine for who he might someday be, because this could be it. These hard days could be our only days and I think . . .

     What if these are the glory days? 

I look for a reaction from my every day attempts, as if what I say will illicit some sort of chemical reaction that will be positive and perhaps puff a colorful cloud.

I'm looking for something to make me feel good, to know that I am doing the right things and making a difference.

I take what he says so personally and if I haven't said something in just the right way, I've often thought I am not good enough. I don't worry about being a bad parent as much as I worry what kind of a person he will become because of me.

I often have to remind myself we all have something -- we all could use counselors in our lives, and . . . perhaps God will use my weaknesses as my son's mother to draw him ever further to His heart, where He is the boy-man's God and not me.

God is bigger than the expectations and criticism of the world. I have to remind myself who each day I will serve -- them or Him . . . my comfort or Him.

I have worn the letters right off the keyboard in my tap, tap, tapping for a cause, a cure, and even confidence. I've choked myself with the pressure to solve and diagnose every reason for why I can't seem to right all that is not working.

Exhausted from all the attempts to fix all the things and all the people, I decided to try God.

     "You can trust Me," are the words that stir in my weary heart. 

All along I've thought it would be me leading him. I'm stepping back and considering how perhaps it really is the child who will lead me.


Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion?
Come to Me.
Get away with Me and you'll recover your life.
I'll show you how to take a real rest.
Walk with Me and work with Me --
watch how I do it.
Learn the unforced rhythms of Grace.
I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with Me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.

-- Matthew 11:28 The Message (MSG)

No comments:

Post a Comment