It had been a rough day. As I scurried
around the kitchen trying to get all the forks and napkins and second helpings
on the dinner table, I heard the familiar thud of the plastic cup and the resulting splash. You
see, when a full cup of chocolate milk is knocked off a 36 in high table by a 6
year old who refuses to settle down and eat his food, the liquid is sprayed in
a ten foot radius around the point of impact with the tile floor. There was
chocolate milk dripping from the ceiling, covering every spindle on the chair
backs, soaking in the fur of the dog, spotting the baseboards, flowing into the
vents, etc. I was at my wit’s end. In a voice that can best be described as a
dragon-after-he-sucked-in-helium, I banished all four kids to the backyard so
that I could began wiping down every surface in the kitchen. A few minutes
later, I was carrying an armful of dishes from the table to the sink when I
tripped over my chocolate-milk coated dog. I uncharacteristically yelled, “Get
the F--- out of my way!” As I regained
my footing and rebalanced the wobbling dishes, I looked up to see my dog
scamper out of the kitchen and into the office…right past my milk-spilling 6
year old. True to form, he had not listened to my instruction about the forced
exile to the backyard and had instead decided to play a computer game.
But he didn’t flinch at my curse word. Not a glance.
He didn’t notice,
I thought. Phew!
It wasn’t until 15 minutes later that I realized I was
wrong. My innocent son, playing a math game about pond animals, said in a calm
voice to an animated frog, “Get the F--- out of my way.” My husband, having
just walked in the door, snapped his head towards him and said, “Where did you
learn that?!”
And in my most defeated, tail-between-my-legs fashion, I
slowly raised my hand.
I wish I could tell you that was the only time I have failed
to be the perfect mother, but that would be a lie. As a stay at home mom, my
children were full time witnesses to my sin for 10 years. What makes my
situation worse is that I know better. I have two degrees in Human Development
and Family Relations. I teach people what children need to proper development and
how to build and maintain strong, healthy families. So not only can I tell you
exactly how I’m damaging my children, I can cite research articles!
Yes, I’m messing up my children. They are not perfect. They
are broken. Their personalities are flawed. Their choices are corruptible.
My biggest fear as a mother has come true. And I’m not the
only mother who feels this way.
From the moment the nurse hands us our sweet newborn child
in the hospital, we feel it. We look at this beautiful creature, so perfect and
so innocent. His eyes meet ours and we say in our own way:
I’m your mommy and I
will always love you and protect you.
And we try. We try with more effort than we have given every
other endeavor in our lives. We read books, articles, and blogs. We research
different parenting models and techniques.
We make the most informed choices we can.
And so we breastfeed, we circumcize, we Babywise, we
immunize, we tummy time, we buy organic, we essential oil, we cosleep, we
babysign, we limit tv time, we refuse to spank, we homeschool, we private
school, we push travel sports at a young age, and it goes on and on.
I am convinced that the fear of screwing up our kids is what
leads to every single Mommy War out there. Mothers (and some fathers) are so determined
to prove that their parenting style is best because the thought that we might
actually be doing something wrong and causing harm to our child is terrifying.
A great example of this is the backlash against
immunizations. A celebrity best known for posing in Playboy and cohosting a 90’s
MTV gameshow made a claim that a vaccine gave her son Autism. Now hundreds of
thousands of mothers every year choose to avoid that vaccine and others because
they are afraid that a choice they make will damage their otherwise
perfect and healthy child.
No, my purpose here is not to debate immunizations or any
other Mommy War topic. There are many other blog out there to focus on that.
Rather, my purpose here is to expose the falsehood of the commonly
held belief that as long as we make the best choices for our child, then it is
possible to keep our perfect little newborn perfect forever. Speakers, authors, psychologist and even
pastors have made a lot of money off of this lie. In fact, if you search “parenting” on
Amazon.com, you will get 138,911 hits. Apparently, there
are 138,911 ways you can try to be a perfect parent and thereby make your child
perfect.
But it is just not possible.
Why?
Because of sin.
The Bible tells us that we live in a broken world, corrupted
by Satan and perpetuated by sinful men and women.
“For all have sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God…”
(Romans 3:23)
It is not possible for us to be perfect mothers and
therefore we cannot raise perfect children. We can be good mothers-even great
mothers. But we cannot be perfect 100% of the time. Our own personal sin contaminates
how and what we teach our child.
Selfishness, impatience, lust, greed, gluttony, pride, gossip,
anger.
From us they learn to mimic the same sins that we exemplify,
as we drive in traffic, talk on the phone with friends, relate with our spouse,
etc. The very first mother experienced this. Eve, having previously displayed
her own discontentment by biting the forbidden fruit, witnessed her son Cain
become so discontent with his lot in life that he killed his brother Abel. Can
you imagine the guilt she must have felt?
Eve also learned through the death of her son Abel, that it
is not possible for us to protect our child every moment they live on earth.
This was the very first lesson that I learned as a mother.
In my first pregnancy, I followed every guideline and every doctor’s order.
Yet, I could not keep the baby inside my womb thriving. Every week, the baby’s
growth fell farther behind. No amount of rest or prayer could save that baby.
As I sat in the emergency room, begging my body to stop the act of miscarriage,
I saw my sweet boy on the ultrasound screen. His once beating heart now sat
still. His soul, once present inside my body, had risen to heaven and into the
care of angels. The very first thing my doctor said was, “This was not because
of something you have done.” He knew that I would blame myself. Afterall, the
very word “miscarriage” implies that the woman couldn’t carry the baby
correctly. It is a truth I still cling to when the mourning and the guilt
returns. I had done all that I could possibly do, but sometimes that isn’t
enough.
There are also times when circumstances happen that are
beyond our control and we cannot give our child the life that we believe is
ideal.
Divorce, death, illness, layoffs, tragedy, natural disaster.
We cannot protect them forever. Children, at some point in
their lives, will feel pain, both physical and emotional. They will be hurt by
the sin of others. They will be hurt by their own sinful nature. We can install
every safety lock, survey every playmate, and sanitize every shopping cart
handle but our children are still going to have times in their lives where they
face pain. But through that pain they
may experience all that God has to offer: redemption, forgiveness, grace, joy,
triumph. My favorite scene from Finding Nemo is between Marlin and Dory, as
Marlin laments how, in spite of his very best efforts, he was unable to keep
Nemo out of harm’s way:
Marlin: I promised I’d never let anything happen to him.
Dory: Hmm. That’s a funny things to promise.
Marlin: What?
Dory: Well, you can’t never let anything happen to him. Then nothing
would ever happen to him.
To tell mothers that it is possible to raise a perfect and
protected child is not fair. It is not fair to the mothers and it is not fair
to the children. You’ve heard it said that in marriage, the difference between
expectation and reality is disappointment. The same rule applies in parenting.
The more we as mothers expect ourselves and our children to be perfect, the
more we will sense failure when imperfection appears. The more Satan can make us
feel like a failure, the more he can incapacitate us from doing the ministry
God intended for us. The more Satan can make our children feel like they do not
measure up to our expectations, the more they will resent us, turning towards
false idols and away from the one true God.
So what are we supposed to do as imperfect mothers, raising
imperfect children in an imperfect world?
1. Do the very best you can. Motherhood is the most
important task we are given. We must give it our all. We should read a few of
those 138,911 parenting books, and subscribe to
some great blogs. We should read research articles that discuss the topics of
Mommy Wars. We should read our bible and seek out scripture that speaks to
parenting issues (Proverbs 22:6: Deuteronomy 6:6-9). We should also “make every
effort to add to our faith” all the fruits of the spirit (2 Peter 1:5-8). We
should not roll on our backs in our struggles, or surrender to our sin, or
simply accept our poor circumstances. Our
God is mighty and through Him we are more than conquerors.
2. Expect imperfection from ourselves
and our children (Romans 3; Proverbs 22:15). Failure will happen in our time on
earth. If it is not a surprise to God that we sin and he loves us in spite of
it (Psalm 139:13-16), then we should expect it as well. Motherhood is hard and we need to give
ourselves a little bit of the grace that we so lovingly give to those around us
when they wrong us.
3. Admit when you are wrong or
when you sin. Children need to see that other people make mistakes. If your
wrongdoing hurt them, then ask for their forgiveness.
4. Point them to Jesus. Remind
yourself and them that righteousness does not come from being good or perfect,
but through Jesus’ death on the cross (Romans 3:24).
5. Pray for the Holy Spirit to
intervene the next time the chocolate milk spills, the toilet overflows, or the
report card shows up. God loves your child even more than you do and he also
knows every mistake he will ever make and he can handle it. Whereas we can only
focus on the present trial, he can see this on the backdrop of eternity.
Chances are, it’s just a
little spilled milk.
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