I always vowed that my kids would NEVER eat junk food before a meal, but one day last week, I gave Luke an ice cream cone at 10:17am.
And here's why:
Never say never, y'all. Poor Luke.
(If anyone knows of any awesome splinter removal techniques that do NOT involve needles or tweezers, please let me know. I think I've traumatized Luke beyond repair and there's still like half that thing in there. So thanks in advance, y'all.)
Let me tell you something: Before I had kids, I was going to be the BEST PARENT EVER. Before the kids were born, I KNEW IT ALL. I would look at those poor, pitiful, red-faced parents with children who were screaming in public and think, "Well, bless their hearts. They just don't have a caa-lue about raising kids, do they? I'll tell you one thing: MY kids'll NEVER pitch a fit like that with ME. Harumph..." I tell you, I knew that when my turn came around, I was going to rock at this whole "Motherhood" thing.
I was going to raise my children perfectly. They would always come when I called them. And they would never run in church. They would always say "Yes, please." and "No, thank you.". They would never ignore my commands and would always sit nicely at the table durning supper. My kids would never stand on sofas, or jump off coffee tables, or crawl under my legs while I talked in the church foyer. They'd never draw on my vacuum cleaner with a marker or bang on my icebox door with toy hammers. They'd always smile sweetly when scolded and never pout when they're told "No." They'd never watch too much TV or eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for supper. I was gonna nail Motherhood.
Then I actually had a baby. {My Luke.} And to top it off, I got pregnant again 9 months later. {My Josie.} And, TO TOP THAT OFF, I got pregnant for a third time 9 months after that. {My Nathan.} And so, three-kids-in-three-years and countless tantrums/bouts of public humiliation later, I have finally realized: YOU NEVER SAY NEVER.
(Y'all can go ahead and insert your peals and peals of laughter here. It's fine. I totally deserve it. I know.)
God taught (and is still teaching) me a resounding lesson in humility when He gave me my three stair-stepped children. Because before I had kids, I was full of myself. My-cup-runneth-over, FULL OF IT. I was full of the empowerment that having two degrees in early childhood education had given me. I was full of the experience classroom teaching had given me. I was full of the pride that managing my students had given me. I was full... of ME. Of my abilities. My organization skills. My discipline strategies. My strength.
When I had Luke, and then again after Nathan, I went through an impossibly dark time. Maybe I'll write one day about what navagating my version of the 'Baby Blues' was like, but for now, just know- it was dreadful. I was the weakest, most fragile, bleakest version of myself I'd ever been. Everything was gray. And I was broken: Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. I was shattered. I was a broken vessel- cracked and hollow and seemingly irreparable. And there was no amount of my own strength that could have fixed me. But God used me in that broken state to began to show me then how much that as a Mom, and as a child of His- I needed Him. It was the beginning of the death of my prideful heart. Once I got through those tough first months, I recovered and felt better than ever before. But I'll never forget the feeling I had when I was forced to, for the first time ever, lean on him completely. To completely surrender myself to him. To be that lamb that went astray and have Jesus carry me back to his fold. And what a feeling that was- to be carried by the Savior. To feel the steady rock and sway of His loving arms as he navigated through the difficult terrain for me while I stayed safely secure and protected in his arms. Wrapped in his LOVE.
Well, God musta known that having just one baby wasn't going to be enough squash my haughty spirit. I must've been really, REALLY full of myself because it took three babies for God to give me enough humility to realize how much less of myself and more of Him I need to be a Godly parent. And I'm so grateful that He's helped me put aside that prideful past. To slay that superior spirit and replace it with one of love, and empathy, and understanding. I can hear a squalling child in public now and instead of getting on my high horse to look down on their parenting, I can fall on my knees and pray for that family. I can lift them up while they are in the deep of it because I HAVE BEEN THERE, too. I can keep myself from proclaiming condemnation on their parenting abilities because I now know that I need grace, too. I've realized that it's easier to bend down and help someone up if you've gotten down off your polished pedestal.
And that's what God did for me. He took me down off my lofty perch and stuck me in the thick of it to help me kill my self-filled spirit. He put me knee deep in dirty diapers and sticky floors and spilled milk and sour towels and sleepless nights and runny noses and temper tantrums and high fevers and low patience and loud volumes and short naps and long days to teach me this lesson. To break me of my self-reliance. To win my selfish heart over to His. He is even still teaching me that in my weaknesses, His strength is even more apparent through Christ.
So, for all the Moms out there who are feeling like they've just gotten the wind knocked out of them- hang in there. Reach out to Jesus and He will catch you. He will light your way like He lights mine as I navigate these tumultuous days of parenting my little brood.
And for all you ladies who aren't Moms yet- take a page from my book: For heaven's sake, DO NOT rush to judgement. Parenting is easy on paper. It's tough in reality. It's not hard to be a perfect parent when your children aren't here yet. Parenting is much, MUCH more difficult when you haven't showered in two days and you're functioning on 3+ hours of consecutive sleep. So cut those Mom's some slack, would you? You'll save yourself an awfully large piece of humble pie in the future. And trust me, humble pie tastes a lot like crow. Bleaaaack.
My continued prayer is that, as a person and as a parent, I will continue to remain humble. That I will continue to reach for His guiding hand as I raise my three little souls for Him. And that, most certainly, I will never say never again. :)
And here's why:
(If anyone knows of any awesome splinter removal techniques that do NOT involve needles or tweezers, please let me know. I think I've traumatized Luke beyond repair and there's still like half that thing in there. So thanks in advance, y'all.)
Let me tell you something: Before I had kids, I was going to be the BEST PARENT EVER. Before the kids were born, I KNEW IT ALL. I would look at those poor, pitiful, red-faced parents with children who were screaming in public and think, "Well, bless their hearts. They just don't have a caa-lue about raising kids, do they? I'll tell you one thing: MY kids'll NEVER pitch a fit like that with ME. Harumph..." I tell you, I knew that when my turn came around, I was going to rock at this whole "Motherhood" thing.
I was going to raise my children perfectly. They would always come when I called them. And they would never run in church. They would always say "Yes, please." and "No, thank you.". They would never ignore my commands and would always sit nicely at the table durning supper. My kids would never stand on sofas, or jump off coffee tables, or crawl under my legs while I talked in the church foyer. They'd never draw on my vacuum cleaner with a marker or bang on my icebox door with toy hammers. They'd always smile sweetly when scolded and never pout when they're told "No." They'd never watch too much TV or eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for supper. I was gonna nail Motherhood.
Then I actually had a baby. {My Luke.} And to top it off, I got pregnant again 9 months later. {My Josie.} And, TO TOP THAT OFF, I got pregnant for a third time 9 months after that. {My Nathan.} And so, three-kids-in-three-years and countless tantrums/bouts of public humiliation later, I have finally realized: YOU NEVER SAY NEVER.
(Y'all can go ahead and insert your peals and peals of laughter here. It's fine. I totally deserve it. I know.)
God taught (and is still teaching) me a resounding lesson in humility when He gave me my three stair-stepped children. Because before I had kids, I was full of myself. My-cup-runneth-over, FULL OF IT. I was full of the empowerment that having two degrees in early childhood education had given me. I was full of the experience classroom teaching had given me. I was full of the pride that managing my students had given me. I was full... of ME. Of my abilities. My organization skills. My discipline strategies. My strength.
When I had Luke, and then again after Nathan, I went through an impossibly dark time. Maybe I'll write one day about what navagating my version of the 'Baby Blues' was like, but for now, just know- it was dreadful. I was the weakest, most fragile, bleakest version of myself I'd ever been. Everything was gray. And I was broken: Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. I was shattered. I was a broken vessel- cracked and hollow and seemingly irreparable. And there was no amount of my own strength that could have fixed me. But God used me in that broken state to began to show me then how much that as a Mom, and as a child of His- I needed Him. It was the beginning of the death of my prideful heart. Once I got through those tough first months, I recovered and felt better than ever before. But I'll never forget the feeling I had when I was forced to, for the first time ever, lean on him completely. To completely surrender myself to him. To be that lamb that went astray and have Jesus carry me back to his fold. And what a feeling that was- to be carried by the Savior. To feel the steady rock and sway of His loving arms as he navigated through the difficult terrain for me while I stayed safely secure and protected in his arms. Wrapped in his LOVE.
Well, God musta known that having just one baby wasn't going to be enough squash my haughty spirit. I must've been really, REALLY full of myself because it took three babies for God to give me enough humility to realize how much less of myself and more of Him I need to be a Godly parent. And I'm so grateful that He's helped me put aside that prideful past. To slay that superior spirit and replace it with one of love, and empathy, and understanding. I can hear a squalling child in public now and instead of getting on my high horse to look down on their parenting, I can fall on my knees and pray for that family. I can lift them up while they are in the deep of it because I HAVE BEEN THERE, too. I can keep myself from proclaiming condemnation on their parenting abilities because I now know that I need grace, too. I've realized that it's easier to bend down and help someone up if you've gotten down off your polished pedestal.
And that's what God did for me. He took me down off my lofty perch and stuck me in the thick of it to help me kill my self-filled spirit. He put me knee deep in dirty diapers and sticky floors and spilled milk and sour towels and sleepless nights and runny noses and temper tantrums and high fevers and low patience and loud volumes and short naps and long days to teach me this lesson. To break me of my self-reliance. To win my selfish heart over to His. He is even still teaching me that in my weaknesses, His strength is even more apparent through Christ.
"And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." MOST GLADLY, therefore, I will boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me." Paul, 2 Corinthians 12:9
{emphasis mine.}
So, for all the Moms out there who are feeling like they've just gotten the wind knocked out of them- hang in there. Reach out to Jesus and He will catch you. He will light your way like He lights mine as I navigate these tumultuous days of parenting my little brood.
And for all you ladies who aren't Moms yet- take a page from my book: For heaven's sake, DO NOT rush to judgement. Parenting is easy on paper. It's tough in reality. It's not hard to be a perfect parent when your children aren't here yet. Parenting is much, MUCH more difficult when you haven't showered in two days and you're functioning on 3+ hours of consecutive sleep. So cut those Mom's some slack, would you? You'll save yourself an awfully large piece of humble pie in the future. And trust me, humble pie tastes a lot like crow. Bleaaaack.
My continued prayer is that, as a person and as a parent, I will continue to remain humble. That I will continue to reach for His guiding hand as I raise my three little souls for Him. And that, most certainly, I will never say never again. :)
As I read your post this song filled my mind, "None of Self and All of Thee":
ReplyDeleteAll followers of Christ go through lessons on humility and He will make sure these lessons apply throughout our lives and it's very hard to go through. Sometimes when I think "I get it" life hits me and I'm back down on bended knees. On Sundays, when singing, "On Bended Knee I Come" I picture all of us who are worshiping Him, humbled, kneeling. seeking His loving arms. I'm thankful when we recognize God's spirit working within us. Truly, that connection feels strongest on our knees.
That VERY SAME hymn was on my heart when I was writing this, too! It is one of my absolute favorites. Such an inspiring reminder that we must continually empty ourselves for Christ. I'm excited that we were both thinking the same thing. How neat!
DeleteExcellent Katie! You nailed what so many of us have gone through and are still going through..
ReplyDeleteOh my mercy, it is/was SO bad! I look back on the way I thought/felt/acted in the past and absolutely CRINGE when I remember my awful behavior. I am ever so grateful that God is helping to break my "know-it-all" spirit- one embarrassing moment at a time. :)
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