Not so much...
I thought the years of experience, the accumulated wisdom of living life, overcoming challenges, attending 1,000 soccer games, writing 100 college entrance exam essays would somehow qualify me for some kind of parental certification or graduate degree that would have next level recognition and benefits.
Not so much....
I thought my mistakes would be fewer, that the likelihood of "offensive fouls" would be minimized. I thought I would be so wise as to really understand each kid, to know what would be best for them, to always dispense incredibly valuable advice.
Not so much...
“People never learn anything by being told, they have to find out for themselves.”
― Paulo Coelho
I thought I would be prepared to answer their big person questions. I thought I would understand what they would be going through. I thought I would know the right things to say and to say things right. I thought I would be a pro at knowing when to stop talking and just listen by now. I thought I new my own hypocrisy, that I wouldn't let it get in the way... I thought I may have learned the lessons of my own experience to better guide them to learn from their own.
Not so much...
This isn't adding up to be a great batting average is it?
I never anticipated not knowing so much now as an "adult" parent. I thought that was reserved for "rookie" fathers. How is it that the fumbling for answers feels constant now?....Why hasn't it gotten easier? Why does it feel overwhelming and so often confusing? How can the reservoir of the well of my life's wisdom so often seem dry when I thought it would be deep?
As I scratch for scraps of answers to these fleeting questions I am reminded constantly of other parents that struggled as well. Adam and Eve, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joshua, Saul, David, Solomon and a host of others. They all made their choices, and when they leaned on their own wisdom, they didn't parent as well. When they caved to the voices of the world (social imperatives of the day) they missed. They failed their kids as a result.
Could it be that is what gets in my way? The thinking and belief that I have to know how to do all these things. That I should have the answers because of my own life's experience or because I am in this role of "Father"? What happens when I am wrong? What happens when the kids see through me?
God Confidence
I am realizing that in my own chase for "self" confidence that I am barking up the wrong tree. What I need is a lot more "God" confidence instead. I need to rely on His experience and wisdom -- not mine. Mine is terribly suspect and full of error. I need to figure out a way to let Him prevail in my life and a little bit less of me prevailing in my life.
The irony is that just when I think my kids may not need as much parenting from me, I realize just how much I need from mine right now, maybe more than I ever had!
I wonder if God nurtures a secret hope that his kids will hit that independent adult milestone where He, and most of us dream of saying: "Ahh, Nice.... the kids are gone, I can relax and have control of the remote all to myself" Does He ever tire of handling our "drama" moments? Does he play hurtful games when things don't go his way? Does he ever get weary of repeated disobedience? Somehow, when I think of Him I just can't see him refusing to ever throw up his arms and say "Whatever, I am done!" .....No, He never will and will always be there perfectly for us.
“Affirming words from moms and dads are like light switches. Speak a word of affirmation at the right moment in a child’s life and it’s like lighting up a whole roomful of possibilities.”
I can recall a half a dozen affirming words my parents spoke to me that have made all the difference. I also saw their gaps, I saw their spirits sag at times, I saw when their faith wasn't brimming brightly and in the end I saw what they were able to do despite themselves. I saw God take over and bring them to the finish line because they were willing to stay in the game and never quit. The affirmations live on forever with me..... Do they, will they with my kiddos?
I am counting on it.....
I have always known that my kids weren't mine. They are His.
"Behold all souls are mine." Ezekiel 18:4
The bible reminds us and even Gibran did too when I read this so long ago and it continues to have meaning for me.
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
I have no claim, no rights, no contractual agreements other than a sacred covenant I made with God to do so with their mom. The accountability is still with me. The charge seemed simple enough--Bring them to this pasture (Earth), keep them safe from danger and enemies, feed and nurture them, help them grow and mature through the normal milestones of life. Included in the job description was some language about hoping to instill a remembrance of where they came from, their purpose for being here and some desire to return to that heavenly home, and that would at some point in time be their choice.....not mine.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
Does this mean my kids are crazy and messed up. No, the opposite. They are all succeeding in their pursuit of happiness and success. They have certainly acknowledged our help and love which is a blessing. This reflection is more about the realization that time passage doesn't equal maturity. Tenure doesn't equal wisdom, length of service does not automatically bring the answers.
......Somehow, in my little brain I thought they might.....
This is the musing of a sometimes lost kid who realizes that I need my parents as much as I ever did. Its about accepting what the grey hair means with more grace, more humility and vulnerability. .
It reminds me of a recent trip to Holland where we visited the Anne Frank house. It was most reverent and spiritual. At the end of it all Anne's father is the sole survivor of the family. It was only years later that he finally could muster reading her diary. When asked what he learned about the holocaust, the death camps, the blight of misery and hate, the seclusion and hiding... experiencing it all, he replied with this:
“And my conclusion is, as I had been in very, very good terms with Anne, that most parents don’t know, really, their children.” --Otto Frank
It really isn't about me after all is it? It comes back to God Confidence. It is so much more about Him and the answers to everything He has provided through his son Jesus Christ. I just need to continue to find ways to tap into that well of wisdom, the owner of which is the only one that truly knows us.
"Behind every young child who believes in himself, is a parent who believed in him first."
My parents didn't have to know who I was, they just needed to believe in me..... and they did, fiercely, with all of their might, with all of their hearts and with all of their lives.....
Maybe I can aspire to do the same?
No comments:
Post a Comment