A Different Kind of Letting It Go
(CLICK TITLE FOR VIDEO) A friend posted this on Facebook today, and I teared up even as I laughed through it. It reminded me of virtually every day in the White family household: piles of laundry, both clean and dirty, folded and crumpled straight from the dryer. Wrappers littering the counters less than twelve inches from that mysterious receptacle we call a Trash Can. The daily detritus of toys skimming nearly every available surface. It’s clean, mostly, but it’s uber lived in, you know?
I used to be so different. When I was teaching, I had an inbox for every class period, plus one for late assignments, plus one for make-up work. I had special bins and baskets for the week’s handouts and novels and anything else that needed organizing. I was on time, or early, even, everywhere I went. My hair and make-up were done, and I wore something other than spandex and tee-shirts. My walls were not colored upon, my DVD collection was intact, and I’m pretty sure I was sane when I was younger.
I am different, now. I question myself, constantly, even while on some fundamental heart level I know the majority of the choices I’m making and the actions I’m taking are the best ones, if not the perfect ones. What mother doesn’t question, though? He won’t eat his supper. Should I make him eat? Or let it go? She has an expectation that we’ll pay for activity after activity, but never seems to want to help around the house. Am I a terrible mother if I make her work for some of the fees? And should I make the other participate in something besides hunting a groundhog? Trivial? Sure. As light as the song from Granger was, I worry about their hearts, as well. Lord, I don’t see them in Your Word enough. Are they still close to You? These questions keep me awake at night.
I watched a movie last week (Moms’ Night Out) that was a tribute to the worry mothers do day in, day out. It steadied me, reminded me, as one character put it, “…the good Lord [didn't make] a mistake, giving your kiddos the momma He did. So you just keep on being you.” What an eye-opening statement. I’ve never really thought about it like that, but YES–everything the Lord does IS intentional. I am Autumn, Lawson, and Truitt’s mother for a purpose. And they are my children for a purpose. They delight me, even as they occasionally fill me with frustration. They continually bless me.