Be Thou My Vision

In front of me stands my three year-old daughter: red-faced, tears streaming, teeth clenched. She’s angry because she’s just been called to the mat for jumping ahead of Phineas to complete a job I asked him to complete. Something simple (taking the clothes from the dryer to the couch, where they can be folded) but something right at his skill level, something easy for him to be successful in doing. Birdie is hot because she has already finished her job (dusting the piano with the Norwex mitt), saw that Phineas’ still needed finishing, and leapt into action. Which– understandably– frustrated her well-meaning but much slower older brother, who was trying his hardest to figure out what steps it took to complete his task on his own.

Birdie is frustrated as I explain, again, that while it takes Phin longer to do his jobs, he still likes the feeling of having managed them solo– just like she does. Independence means just as much to a delayed 7 year-old as it does to a go-getter 3 year-old. I appreciate her willingness to help, and I love that she is eager, but Phin needs the chance to bask in the glow of, “What a hard worker you are! Fantastic job!” as well.

This is a constant story here right now; Birdie’s “I want to help!” steamrolls just about everyone at some point or another. The baby. The kindergartener. Me. And while I’m taking pains to remind her that shoving people out of the way to get closer to the eggs that need cracking into the mixing bowl, I’m not despairing. Yes, I’ve been here with other children. But more importantly, I see this tendency of hers not as an act of willful disobedience or as an attempt to monopolize every situation, but rather as a great gifting in need if some gentle harnessing.

So much of our frustrations as parents, I think, can be eased if we just remember one immutable fact: we are in the business of training children to be adults. Keeping a long view, and seeing the behavior and tendencies that they exhibit today in the context of  their adult lives, helps a stressed out Momma to keep first things first and to decide which battles need to be fought, and which ones just need to be taught.

Take Birdie’s overbearing desire to help everyone with everything– whether you want her to, or not. While it’s not always my happy place to turn around and realize she’s pushed a chair against the counter and is balancing precariously, trying to put a glass in the overhead cabinet, the best thing I can do, as her Momma, is see this as part of the big picture: Birdie sees something that needs to be done and gets to it. No waiting around for orders. No seeing if someone else steps up. She’s a doer. And that’s a beautiful thing in a grown up. In a child, not always so much. But a woman, with her own set of things to accomplish on any given day? Yes!

There are some things, I’ve learned, that we parent out. Whining. Fits of anger. Lying. Biting (definitely no biting in the work world!). Ugly bits are wrapped up in the heart of each and every child, and it’s our calling, as the ones entrusted with the task of leading them through the process of maturing, to weed the garden of their behavior as they rocket towards the line of self-suffieciency.

So we correct. We train. We teach. We reprimand. We redirect. And often, we get so caught up in setting their feet on the straight path that we are on auto-pilot, reacting to each stumble as if it is another thing to be *fixed* rather than something to be examined, explained in context, and set in motion towards a greater good.

I wish I could say that I have mastered the art of seeing my children’s potential through God’s eyes. I wish I could say that I never wring my hands in worry as Jack dreams up, plots, and finally executes yet another ridiculously involved stunt that just might land him in traction … or on the front lines of some seemingly-impossible mission to parts unreached. I wish I could say that Mathaus’ tendency to focus hours of attention on learning a programming language made me thrilled at his ability to claim the mantle of autodidact, rather than slightly nervous at the possibility of his choosing to live his life in dark bedroom lit only by the glow of multiple computer screens. In my garage.

But I’m human. And a child setting their shoulders and refusing to see reason rarely looks like an adult who sticks to his guns and stands firm, even in the face of opposition. Even if that’s what the end result might look like.

So I try my hardest to keep my eyes on God, to listen, and to parent with grace and love and the creativity that is required in ushering little people towards a relationship with Christ, a love for others, and an empathy that allows them to serve with a grateful heart while they fulfill their purpose here on earth with the skills and gifts designed so perfectly into their being. In other words, I ask the Lord, daily, to let me see my children as He sees them. Diamonds in the rough. Unrefined clay. People lost in their own sin, but able to be redeemed and, ultimately, used for His glory.

I link up posts with these wonderful hosts: Diamonds in the Rough, Life in a Breakdown, Sunday Best Showcase, Teach Beside Me, Finishing Strong, Mama Moment Monday, The Modest Mom, Mama Moments Mondays, Monday’s Musings,Making Your Home Sing Monday, Playdates at the Wellspring, A Pinch of Joy, Titus 2sday, Titus 2 Tuesday, Growing Homemakers, Babies & Beyond, Teaching What is Good, Missional Call, Essential Things, Create With Joy, Hope in Every Season, For the Kids Fridays,  Preschool Creations, Pin Me Party, Learn & Link, Frugal Homeschool Friday.