There’s a question I keep turning over and over in my mind. For weeks now I have held it in my hands. I flip it over, I turn it this way and that, I rub away at its edges. I feel it growing smoother and more well worn with time. Like the pebble stuck in a shoe. It is always there.
I feel it when I wake up. When I stand at the kitchen sink full of last night’s dirty dishes, the question stands before me. A riddle I can’t wrap an answer around.
What am I leaving these boys?
As summer begins its slow wind down, it is my season for remembering death. Remembering that after days spent riding watermelons in the swimming pool, after splitting them open, their red sweetness running down our gap-toothed grins, after spitting their dark heart seeds as far as our gangly selves could manage, came the day I outgrew my childhood in an instant.
My mom died and a stripe was painted down my life dividing it into before and after. The back pack of memories I carry from my before feels lighter than the 18 years crammed into it might expect. I sift through those moments, looking for pieces of her. And the question comes back.
What am I leaving these boys?
Sometimes the question feels heavy, pressing down on my diaphragm, and I have to resist the irrational panic. I am not dying. I am not her. But I will. One day I will most certainly return to the dust I am sculpted from. So, I have to know, when that happens, what will I have left these boys?
She left me a sense of being less important than her books. She burned dinner over stories she was lost in, and was late to pick us up from school because she had snuck off to the movies. She left me a passionate love for the written word but never wrote down her own thoughts for us to sift through.
But oh how she could turn a Wednesday night into a celebration. With Paul Simon, his pal Al, and the rhythm of the Saints she could sweep us all off our feet and into the living room dancing out our joy at being alive. Everyone wanted to be with her. There was a light inside her and she fed it with poetry and fiction and it spilled out onto everything else that she touched.
And we loved her, even when we didn’t understand her.
What am I leaving these boys?
I try to stop and see through their eyes. Perhaps the unkempt yard and chaos in the playroom, perhaps the piles of laundry and unmade beds don’t matter as much to them as they do to me. Perhaps they will never know their mother felt ashamed that she’d never owned a home. Perhaps they don’t keep score of how many meals are eaten around the dining room table and how many are eaten on the go.
Perhaps, they count what matters in very different ways.
“What makes you angry?” I ask my class of pre-K vacation Bible School kids. “What kinds of things make your heart so mad and your feelings so frustrated you can hardly stand it?” We are talking about forgiveness and how difficult it can be.
My first born raises his hand and I naively call on him, “When you shout at me,” he replies.
When you shout at me.
I hear each word as if it were its own sentence.
When. You. Shout. At. Me.
When, despite dinner on the table, toys crammed in closets, play dates planned out. When you shout at me.
What am I leaving these boys?
I bend down and take the pebble out of my shoe. I take my shoes off altogether. I feel with my bare feet, digging toes into clay, and know for certain that where I am standing is holy ground. This business of raising children is sacred soil and what I sow into it now is what I am leaving them to reap. So I lay down my measuring sticks of house, and healthy meals, and entertainingly scheduled activities.
I lay them down and wait to see what He will give me instead. Because He is the answer to every question.
The LORD said to [Moses], “Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the LORD ?
Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.” Exodus 4:11.
Teach me Father. Please teach me what to leave these boys. And especially how to do it.
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“This business of raising children is sacred soil…”
Yes, my dear it is and how I needed to hear that today. Getting on my knees before Him to find those answers for the day now.
So very touched this morning.
I am in the process of winding down from a disappointing, frustrating Monday with my boy. Thank you for this – wisdom and inspiration and hope to keep sowing.
Keep on keeping on – I find chocolate helps!
Sigh.
I just had a few minutes pre-shower, pre-kids waking up.
And I read this.
Cried a little.
Because I ask this heavy question nearly every minute of my mothering-of-six-kids life.
Because my mother died too without much written record of her thoughts – and so I scribble furiously into journals for my own kids to know something of me when I am no longer here.
And I ache when my children speak truth like that into my ears.
Beautiful post.
I wish you would come visit Crystal already so I could soak you up!
Thanks for this, what a reminder of the calling we have as believers and parents.
-Katie
Such a wise woman you are. I shout too. It eats at my guts. Thanks for the nudge in the right direction.
Wise? More like learning to learn from my mistakes
Yes, wise! Knowledge is knowing what to do. Wisdom is doing it. I see so much wisdom in you, especially in the learning from mistakes part of you.
Absolutely beautiful… absolutely me. ugh…. but I have to say the only perfect one is Jesus. We just need to be aware of our words and our tone of voice, easier said than done! Thank you so much for sharing, it gave me a reminder!
Thanks, Lisa for writing this. I struggle with the shouting as well and I wonder a lot what my kids are going to remember about me.
I ask the same thing, thank you for sharing the beginings of an answer.
Needed this this morning. Thank you.
Oh my friend. Your words have seared my heart … for in the midst of the chaos of writing and proposing and excitement I wonder, have I willingly exchanged my words for hers? Have I listened and given her words the full attention they deserve? Or (more likely) have I smiled and nodded as she walked away believing my words were more valuable than hers? Have I said “Yes” to her and “No” to the beckoning of words on the page? Have I made the written word more valuable than the spoken language of the heart, of giggles and whispers, of tickles and hugs?
My heart hurts in this moment … for I have taken the sacred soil of parenting her and cheapened it with plastic flower monuments to my accomplishments and cheap ornamentation of quasi-parenting. Today, this week, I’ll plow up the dusty dirt that has left its film on the rich soil … and I’ll till into her with love and grace and that most precious gift of all, my full attention. And over time, I pray that I will see the buds of new life in that sacred soil that binds her heart to mine.
So, if you don’t see me much this week and next and even in the weeks that follow, know I’m tending to a most precious garden … the one in my child’s heart.
You are lovely. And you have a big wide mama’s heart. And I don’t doubt for a second that it loves on your girl in all the right ways!
Oh, Lisa-Jo. When you’re right, you are so very right. Thank you for reminding me.
“and i take off my shoes altogether.” this IS holy ground. yes and yes and yes.
hi there….I’ve been gone for a little bit, but I’m back now. And, well, maybe you don’t remember, but, I’ve been trying to get pregnant for a year and while we were in the states, we had success!!! I’m 8 weeks pregnant today and praying it sticks…
and praying, that what I leave this little one, would be words of life. despite all the ways I know I’ll fail him/her…longing to leave words of life.
Oh wow- Super Sized Congratulations!! What delicious news! And how funny, my first pregnancy originated in the States too, even though it was delivered in South Africa. Wishing blessings on all three of you! Will your cutie arrive in Romania?
you are leaving them a life well lived. intentionally lived. lived in Christ
how old was your mom when she died?
Forty two.
Ouch…yelling…ah yes, that pesky annoying habit i seem to STILL do, although not as much (PRAISE GOD) but still just as hurtful.
I want to leave a legacy behind…a legacy of loving and serving GOD, loving and serving family and others. A. Godly. Heritage. One my children can look to with pride and humility at the same time knowing and understanding it is all because of HIM. It is He who hath made us and not we ourselves…remembering His lessons, reminded of the ground fought for and won, standing even when others fail to…getting back up when we fall, pressing on toward the mark, the prize of HIS high calling…walking by faith and not by sight…becoming not less than i am but more…
Yes and Amen and me too!
Thank you for your honesty! As my Monday unravels and turns into something I never planned I needed this encouragement.
The yelling thing…ugh. I have found myself yelling at my kids to stop yelling and then praying they were too young to grasp the hypocrisy of it all.
This is something I have made a conscious effort to work on. I still remember certain instances of my mom yelling and how beat down it made me feel. I refuse to pass that on. Thank you for this reminder our words are powerful, powerful things.
Yes, the hypocrisy – me too. Rats. So tricky, this parenting business.
Lisa-Jo, based on the other comments, I would say you wrote a very timely post for today! I, too, struggle with this same issue and have already blown it today. I never had a temper, but now with my three small children, I find that I yell far too often. I think it’s because there are times when I simply do not know what to do anymore and my frustration comes out in my screams. I don’t want my children to remember me this way.
Thank you for sharing that verse. I had never looked at it before as applicable to me but always particular to Moses (I don’t know why!). I needed this encouragement.
I’d never looked at it that way before either. Then the more I thought about “sacred ground” the more I went back to the passage. And there it was. God offering to teach Moses what to say. And truly, if you look at his relationship over the next 40 years with the Israelites, Moses constantly refers to them as his children and often bemoans the fact that God gave them to him in the first place. Moses is now, officially, my homie!
LJ, thank you for this. I believe every mama-if she’s being honest-has struggled with this. Life is fast and pulling and the Liar is sneaky to make us think what isn’t important is. We get caught up in this fast paced life and spew words that hurt rather than help. The thing to remember is, do we apologize afterwards? Do we own our mistakes, tell our babies we are so very sorry and ask their forgiveness? It does them good to see us mess up and seek forgiveness. They then get to love like Jesus by extending that forgiveness.
I am convicted to check my measuring stick. When they are all grown up, I want them to know that they and their father were (is!) my priority blessings!
Yes, the fine art of apologizing – if practice makes perfect, I am certainly getting there….
Once again…you ain’t the only one!
It is holy ground! Thanks for the reminder today!
I think this could possibly be one of the most beautiful pieces I have read in a long time. I have three young children as well and you captured my thoughts and feelings perfectly. What AM I leaving them? Will they remember that I always folded the towels or will they remember that I always put them before household responsibilities? Will they remember snuggle time in bed or will they remember me trying to hurry through bedtime so I could just have a moment or two to myself before I fall asleep as well?
Thanks for the beautiful perspective!
It’s hard, isn’t it? Because that alone time is so sacred as well – one needs it for the sake of sanity. The balance, it seems the balance is the thing.
This stings and heals all at once. “So I lay down my measuring sticks . .” Amen. Thank you.
Oh Lisa-Jo. No words but, “thank you.”
yes Lisa-Jo… thank you. Touches deep.
Hugs,
holy ground. yes, it is. holy training ground. thank you for sharing your heart. i need to remember this every day…
for me shouting went beyond frustration. rather, pure anger that would release when my children wouldn’t meet my expectations. and that was it. it was more about me and my will not being done…had nothing to do with His will.
one day i was so mad at my girls…because they were laughing and, well, i was getting distracted. i ran into their room ready to shout. and i did just that…at the top of my lungs, “STOP ACTING LIKE….KIDS!!!!!!!!!” that moment was truly a turning point for me.
and God showed me. they are just kids. kids who need guidance, direction and love. and that was me, too. i have those very same needs. (and because of God’s grace i don’t have the anger i once directed at my children… he is mighty to save.)
Beautifully written! You spoke to me both in your remembrance of your Mom and in the challenge with your kids. I am right there with you on both counts. Thank you!
Lisa-Jo, please stop making me cry! Not really, it’s good for me. This is such a touching post and your son’s answer brought tears to my eyes b/c it hits so close to home. We are not alone in this struggle to be good mothers… the mothers that He wants us to be. The mothers that He made us to be.
I was driving to work this morning, saddened about a discussion I had with my 10 year old son last night. Disappointed in how emotional I was. Wishing that instead I had said nothing at all, nothing would have been better parenting than that. Than me worrying too much about his own life making friends, not letting him make his own mistakes, me letting my Momma heart take over and trying to protect his.
And then I read your post. Whew. It was just what I needed. Isn’t our God something ? !
I needed that assurance that I am not the only one. What a relief to know that I am not the only one who spends too much time worrying about how good of a job I am doing.
After a while I was reminded of this message : These children are not ours. We need not worry about what we are leaving them. God our Father is in charge of that and I have no doubt how wonderful it is. God’s plans are always better than we could ever imagine or desire our (silly over analytical, worrying) selves.
Thank you for writing this today. God Bless. – Jen
You are not. So very not. We all worry. We all fail. We all get back up and try again. Hope your day got better. Hope your evening was stellar.
wow. this one got me, woman. i lost my dad at 17, and i feel what you spill here. especially the “we loved her, even when we didn’t understand her.” especially that – because there is comfort in knowing that i loved my dad — who did so many things wrong and never read a parenting book and never experienced (giving or receiving) real grace — even when i didn’t understand.
because he was my dad. so, yes, you’re the yeller (and i am, too, oh conviction in that), but you’re the mom. that will buy you much more understanding from them than those boys can even articulate now … and Grace will take care of the rest.
also, you leave them these words, scribbled here. they will know.
Yes, these words. I write them down ’cause I am determined to leave a record of how ferociously I loved them despite the moments I may have failed them. They will know it all mattered to me. Every single bit.
I am new to your blog- this is the first post I am reading as a matter of fact- and wow what a post it is! I have been working on being more present with my kids. I am a stay at home mom so I mean present in an emotional sense. I’ve been trying to monitor and reign in my computer/iPhone time and I am doing ok. But then I read these words of yours: “She left me a sense of being less important than her books. She burned dinner over stories she was lost in” and I substituted “laptop” and “iPhone” for books and stories. And I was stopped in my tracks.
What am I leaving them? Does it match up with what I say I want to leave them? Thank you for causing me to re-evaluate these things!
Ouch because me too. I know now how she dropped off the radar of paying attention. How desperate the desire is for space away from our kids – even if it’s only mental. And like you, I struggle to match up what I say I want to leave them with what I do. We are in this together.
I ask myself the same thing, often. You nailed it…sacred soil.
Perfect post!
I know My mom yelled, but I don’t remember it…I remember the good/fun parts of My childhood with her. I hope what makes this parenting thing holy ground– GRACE– will erase the parenting mistakes from My boys’ hearts. I have to remind myself that God is redeeming My mistakes as well…or as a wise woman wrote, I believe NOTHING is wasted. That means not even the yelling or Misguided attempts at balancing it all. *blessings*
Perfect post for me to read today…I ask myself this all the time…on my knees with you.
Thank you for articulating this so well!
Oh, friend, this moved me to tears. I had a similar moment with my four year old the other day — we, too, were talking about anger, and she turned my words back at me. My eyes filled, my heart broke, and I asked for her forgiveness. Again. Oh, how inadequate I feel for this job, this calling I find so precious and so hard. And yet, what else could turn me back to the Lord, again and again?
You write out my heart, Lisa-Jo. I read your words and want to tell people, “Her? I know her!” Well done, friend.