20 Mar The Idol of Expectations

I have a confession to make.

I made an idol of my children. More accurately, the idea of my children, and my expectations of who they would be.

I just knew, thanks to my loving yet firm hand, that they would exhibit first time obedience and perfect church behavior. We would homeschool, of course, with charts, and they would be cheerful loving helpers with their younger siblings.

(I’ll pause while everyone dies from hysterical laughter at my arrogance and naivete).

First, I had to leave my firstborn for a year when she was one and a half. (Deployments and all that). That threw a wrinkle in this whole parenting business right out of the gate. I homeschooled her for kindergarten and we both cried the whole time. She’s been in public school since first grade. And babies? Not her thing (Which I am 100% okay with it, but was not expecting.) 

My second? He screamed for two years. Didn’t cry, didn’t whimper. Screamed. His emotional volume is cranked up to earsplitting decibels. And while that makes for some difficult days, multiple screaming meltdowns, and long minutes in the calm down chair, it also equates to irrepressible joy. Thankfully.

I used to be the person in the grocery store secretly believing that it ultimately was a failure of parenting when the kid two aisles over was full on screaming. Now, I am that mom. And I can attest to how very hard I am parenting these four babes of mine.

Let me pause again and say how very, VERY sorry I am for that. I was so wrong, and so arrogant. 

Now, my oldest is being assessed for ADD/ADHD, and I am realizing afresh how the idols of my expectations-obedience, calm, education, personality, etc.-have informed my parenting. And I’m sharing with you, because I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m not alone.

Over the past two years, by the grace of a loving Savior, my idols have been cracking one by one, lying in shards at the feet of my Father who teaches me every day to how to love my children well.

There are a cascade of events leading up to her assessment, perhaps stories best told another day, but hear this.

Last month we spent approximately EVERY DAY with a sick child. Flu, strep, ear infections, bronchitis, and the cold to end all colds. We spent a lot of time at home, a lot of time sprawled across beds and couches, a lot of time TOGETHER. And I looked at my daughter, really looked at her for the first time in too long. And I am overcome with awe at this treasure of a girl, who is nothing like I imagined, and so very much more.

I gave her blue hair today, this artist girl of mine. I didn’t expect blue hair and cheetah print. I didn’t expect ADD and special diets and routines (that I am no good at). We have shed many tears, and I am sure we will shed many more. But I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Maker of Heaven and Earth designed me to be the mother of these beautiful, rambunctious, wild ones, and it is a gift.

I also didn’t expect her emotional intuitiveness and love of animals. I didn’t expect her vision for the marginal among us, her art, and her love for the written word. I didn’t expect her quick wit and ready laugh. The truth is, none of us are ready for the wee ones who populate our world. But they are knit, and known by the Namer and Counter of Stars and it is my great privilege to shepherd my small ones toward the Shepherd. And whether it looks like blue hair or first time obedience, when we surrender them to Him, our idols have a way of cracking.

And these idols breaking? They break me, and maybe I am just telling you all this because I need to be broken, and you need to know. You need to know that you aren’t alone. That your wee babes – made in His image but not in your expectations – are one of the greatest gifts you’ll get on this sin scarred rock, short of redemption.