Heavenly Glimpses Blog, 2013
She runs past me flaring her arms all wild, not wanting me to pull her in close after a day of kindergarten and I know how much she needs me by nightfall and struggles to leave me shortly after dawn, and it’s this dance of knowing when to pull her in and when to give her space.
And in her unavailability and in times of mine, I wonder how often I’m missing the mark?
Could there be red flags unnoticed alerting me of a quick demand for compliance leaving her frustrated or another nudge into the classroom forcing her to let go sooner than she is ready?
How has being on time and filling our schedules and never missing a thing become more important than a teachable moment, discipline, or paying attention to a child’s struggle—to their heart?
I believe God esteems a mother’s role as eternal work—a servant to the needy, a shepherd to her flock, Jesus to her children.
I hop in the SUV after nudging her into the classroom again one day and weep all the way home. I weep because I was more concerned about what the teacher thought than my daughter’s struggle. I wanted her to be independent, not clingy to mom, and it hit me that this is how I am training her, day after day—that desiring her mom is a weakness and being independent of her mom is a strength.
Although she is wildly independent, blossoming into her own person, she is still needy because she is a child and I am her mother. I believe God esteems a mother’s role as eternal work—a servant to the needy, a shepherd to her flock, Jesus to her children.
The one thing we parents must never forget is that we have our children’s hearts and we must do what it takes to keep them.
Who else will better teach this child about the woman she is slowly becoming? Who else will show her how cherished and loved she is? Who else to better make her feel worthy, heard, and seen?
Who else is purposed to hold a child’s heart like that of a parent?
The one thing we parents must never forget is that we have our children’s hearts and we must do what it takes to keep them.
And if I continually push her—into the classroom, onto the soccer field, into the ballet room, off of my lap, and out of my conversation—her heart inevitably goes with her.
In the times she becomes unavailable or I become unavailable, it is I who must turn toward that relationship, patiently navigating the way to her heart. The ball never falls in the child’s court first. It is always our invitation, as it is Christ’s constant invitation to us.
My prayer is that God always catch our children where we miss. But more significantly that he catches them where we don’t miss—in our arms.
Because who better to show them Jesus than the ones who hold their hearts?
