Higher and Higher

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love” (1 John 4:18).

“I…wish…I…could…do…anything!” yells Jon-David, as he swings higher and higher in the backyard. I am sitting upstairs, and I can watch my children through the narrow window of the green bedroom where I sit in front of computer. I am savoring the time to reflect and write, wondering how I could be so stressed out yesterday but today be so acutely aware of the richness of my life.

He swings higher. “I wish that I could do anything, too!” chimes in my daughter. They are laughing. They are cold in the afternoon air. They are not wearing shoes.

I want to drink in all of this moment. For in this moment, I have slowed down. Chosen to ignore the phone by stuffing it in the depths of a recliner. Decided to hold my toddler when she woke from her nap and smelled like warm baby and apple juice. Made a cup of Earl Grey Creme hot tea and made it strong. Toasted a bagel and smothered it with cream cheese even though it’s already 4:30, just because it sounded good.

My children are all over the yard. They are yelling about rocket ships and pilgrims and plans for Saturday. Bare feet are hitting the grass, and I am still watching them.

I spend so much of motherhood challenging myself to do better. To read more books, seek out godly wisdom from more experienced mothers, set up more discipline charts. I am full of words like “effective” and “purpose” and “intentional”. I am charging ahead towards the goal, dragging my children behind me.

What has happened to me? Do my children know who I am? What changed once I became a mother? How did I lose my ability to relax and let life wash over me?

I like old Broadway musicals. Fiddler on the Roof, The Music Man, South Pacific. I know the words to every song from most of those old shows. But how often have I put on the music I love and danced around with my kids? … I like walking in the rain and making chili and reading C.S Lewis out loud to whoever will listen.  But have I ever done any of those things with my kids?

I don’t think my children know that woman.

They know the woman who is complaining at them for being barefoot. The woman who worries that they are swinging too high. The woman who hustles them off to bed so that she can finally relax.

But I don’t want to be that kind of mother - nagging, hurrying, upset. I want to be myself as a mom – to rediscover who I am and show that to my children. I want to take that risk as a parent, to live boldly as a mother, without fear. I want to stop dragging my children behind me as I lead them captive toward that elusive destination called “perfect motherhood”.

Instead I will turn around. I will walk outside. I will push them on the swings and talk about why rainy weather is best, and I will sing some of my songs. I will push them higher.

And we will get to know each other.

God, you are calling me into a life where I can lay down my fears and trust you. Lord, you know I am afraid of surrendering control as a mom. But, Father, these are your children. Fill me with confidence to parent without fear and control. Instead, Lord, I ask that you will fill me this day with your Holy Spirit as I let your love fill me me and flow out towards my family. In the name of Your Son, Amen.