March 11, 2010 8:37 AM
Everyday miracles for mommies
Originally published 9/28/2008 - hope it encourages you today!
With kids now in public school (though I homeschooled once upon a time) and living in the country, I drive my kids to the bus stop each morning.Today is pouring rain in northern Virginia - I love the rain! Justin is first out to catch the bus to Round Hill Elementary. Then I come back and get Jonny, Maddy, Jesse and Daniel, who take the same bus together because it stops at Blue Ridge Middle School and Loudoun Valley High.
So this morning, Justin and I were waiting in Big Moby - our 12-passenger burgundy Ford Club Wagon (down from the 15-passenger we had before our nest started emptying) with the Megamom license plate - praying for Daddy's knee to heal while we waited for the bus. I've never minded driving kids places or waiting for things to happen. In the close quarters of a car or van, that time is rich in togetherness. The car was off and we were soaked in the sound of the rain - like being wrapped in a cozy blanket.
Justin was sitting in the front passenger seat, which usually doesn't happen because of the air bag situation and his being too small. And of course it was just Justin and me - the other kids were back at the house still getting ready - so it is special and quiet just being together.
The quiet rhythm of the rain and the monochromatic gray outside and praying with a first grader was better than a few hours at the spa. At least, since I've never experienced a few hours at the spa, I'm guessing that it was better as I just felt so happy and peaceful and open to the day.
The bus came - and Justin, in his flannel-lined blue raincoat hoisted his Spiderman backpack and opened the door to let himself out to catch the bus. I opened mine and met him to give him his blessing and send him off.
As the bus beeped and flashed and took him off to school, I just sat there for a few minutes marveling at the miracle of children.
You know, those of us who spend a lot of time with children grow so accustomed to the miraculous adventure of raising them that we take it for granted. And a lot of time, the miracles are crowded out by the weight of responsibility and the concerns of the turmoil going on in the world.
But this is what it's really all about. And sometimes God reaches through the daily grind to illuminate an every day moment to help us see the richness and wonder of the way he created us: compared to animals we take a long time to grow up and learn all the things we need to learn. We are dependent. And that long period of dependence our children have gives us time for our hearts to be tenderized and for us to learn and grow to become better people than we start out to be.
You might find it puzzling that this moment of inspiration was sparked by Justin opening the door of the van to climb down to the road to walk to the bus. But then again, if you've found yourself similarly transported by an everyday occurrence, you'll understand.
You know how often I've discussed how essential it is to see the world through your children's eyes (and if you need a refresher course, read Montessori at Home #1). I've used this picture Maddy took of me at a produce stand on the road to Berryville to show you what I mean.
I know Justin has opened the door for himself countless times before, but this morning in one of those illuminating moments, I truly SAW what he was doing. I saw what it meant.
I mean, here is this little 60 pound kid in a passenger seat built for someone two or three times his weight, turning to open a door twice his height to slide down to a running board and then the ground at increments even I find more challenging than a car.
There's a confidence and faith in the way young children tackle these tasks - formidable to them and habitually overlooked by us - that speaks to me of the vast potential God has built into each of us to handle so much more than we give ourselves credit for. I think of Justin (who also happens to have Down syndrome) undaunted, unintimidated by the daily obstacles he faces.
Like buttoning his shirt - which took him 15 minutes to do this morning but which he never complained about. And which I resisted the impulse to help him with because I know it's in his best interest that I help him as little as possible.
How could I complain of the things that are set before me each day when I think of my children as an example - how God has built into them the desire to grow and achieve, to become independent and to serve others (when your two-year-old wants to sweep, help him learn to do it!).
And then I think how God continues the growth and learning through parenthood. As though He designed it that we would have a second chance now to SEE the miraculous process he has brought us through and how He has equipped us to tackle bigger responsibilities, to serve others more than we may have dreamed.
These are the feelings and thoughts that have been tumbling through my heart and mind as I listen to the laundry tumble in my dryer (my laundry room is just 12 feet away from my office - God certainly had a plan when he designed this house with us in mind, even though we rent it :)
I know you're as busy as I am. Just wanted to help you take a deep breath this morning and be filled with the knowledge that God loves you and has a perfect plan for you as a mother. You can trust Him daily to help you through every care and anxiety.
Just be prepared for these unexpected moments of illumination and when they come, try to stop everything to receive them as a gift from God - after all, we don't get pay raises, medals, awards or trophies. These moments may be harder to see but they are there and it's up to us to be ready to receive them.
"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience."~Emily Elizabeth Dickinson~
Posted in Inspiration, Mothering, Preschoolers | Permalink
Comments
Amen, sister. Last night I was nursing my newborn and watching my 4-year old empty rocks out of his pocket. I felt like weeping, looking at my preschooler (who we are homeschooling and who has learned to read thanks so much to your book!) - where did all the time go? I now know what St. Luke meant when he penned in the Gospel, "And Mary pondered all these in her heart." The whole world could not contain the volumes I could write on my emotions as a mother. Only Mary knows, and all mothers who love the Blessed Mother can share in this mystery.
Posted by: Con Junior | March 11, 2010 10:43 AM
Barbara, what a beautiful meditation on the everyday moments of parenting! thanks for boost! With Obamacare drama/doom it is often hard to just relax and just take in the absolute wonder that our children are. Have a beautiful Day! Love, Julie
Posted by: Julie | March 11, 2010 10:50 AM
What a wonderful piece of writing. I have had those moments of awe when watching my children too! They are breathtaking and usually leave me a little choked up. You very aptly described how momentous these small instances are when we realize the myriad of little miracles that stir in our everyday lives.
I loved the summary quote at the bottom. I had just spoken with a painter yesterday who is going to use chalkboard paint for a section of wall beside our door. I wanted to have inspirational quotes at eye level as the kids go off to school. I think that might be the first one!
Posted by: kelly | March 11, 2010 11:28 AM
I had a similar experience with Timothy today (he's 2 1/2). He was sitting in the barber's chair getting his hair cut. He sat with trepidation on his face. I squatted to the ground so that I was looking up at him in the chair and at that moment I felt like there was no better place to be in the world than holding his hands underneath the oversized smock that was draped over his body and assuring him that everything would be okay.
Posted by: Wendy | March 11, 2010 4:46 PM
just beautiful. and it really spoke to me. I do experience those moments of sheer joy, sometimes combined with tears for I know how blessed i am to receive them, and that they will not last forever. I count them, every one of them.
Posted by: Gardenia | March 11, 2010 5:06 PM
I too have experienced those moments -- little epiphanies. What a beautiful piece of writing Barbara.
Posted by: Donica | March 12, 2010 8:30 AM
