Linking up with my beloved Five Minute Friday today.
This morning I prayed for my boy, my first born.
This is because I am super spiritual.
Most days I am so spiritual, if I was a baseball team, I would be in the World Series of Spiritual. #TeamJesus! All the way!
Ok… Um. This is not the truth.
#TeamJesus has it in His contract that we are to attempt honesty in all our affairs, but most of you know me enough to realize… I am being a bit sarcastic. Just a bit.
Sarcasm helps me process. It is my way to butter the dry toast of life.
Anyhow, here was my prayer:
“Lord. I cannot. I just don’t know. I am at a total loss. My kid. We are not WORKING. Help me. Please.”
Ok, I am on a slippery slope here. I love to write about my boys, my family, but also: one day, you know? He’s gonna read this post and just sigh at me. “MOM, cut that out.”
So, I’m just gonna say this: I think this parenting thing is too hard. And I can’t do it very well. And I am confused, and I feel like I have to go to the library and check out a bunch of parenting books. Like, ALL of them. Books like: “So, Your Children, Huh? Driving You Nuts?” And, “What To Expect When They Are Nuts,” And, “Kids: No Matter What You Try They Will Make You Nuts.”
I know. After I carry all these books (Keyword: “nuts”), so many that the librarian will look at me with pity, I’ll read them all and take notes, use post its, maybe fill up a notebook or two, and still, STILL not do it right.
My first born. He came into my life right on time, right on his due date. He slams up against my personality lately. He does so because, well…
He is exactly like me. We are nuts.
And first thing, in the morning, I pray: “Don’t let me screw this up. He is precious. He is driving me crazy. I have to get this right.”
But you know? I don’t think that’s a #TeamJesus prayer, really. It’s more like terrified scatter shot, all panicked and hoping for a direct hit. These are more like a prayers… to me. To take this all over. And fix it. Because that’s how we operate, my first born and me. We are in control.
Except when we’re not.
My prayers, first thing, need to life my hands up to the One who has got this all. He is my Father, after all. He knows best. I can go ahead and read the fifteen parenting books next to my bed, but at the end of the day, I need to read the bible too. And realize who the Great Author is, recognize that He wants us to parent as He does. And go from there.
By the way, ask a seven year old to give up control, and watch his little brain start shooting out sparks.
Ask a 40 something year old momma to do the same? She should NOT be sparking. She has age on her side. A lot of age. If she starts sparking she might just set herself on fire, and she’s too old for that nonsense.
I got a lot to learn. I love my boy. But my prayers should be this:
“Lord, change me. Use me. And, I give you ME. Also, I give you my boy. My first born. He is precious to me. And he is Yours.”
“Help. Please. And thank You.”
Can I hear an amen?
Parenting is so hard. It is SO hard. And control freaks find it so mind boggling that often times? We rev up to nutball to FIX it all. Today? I’m going to fix my heart on Jesus, who is my first love.
And I’m gonna love on the idea that in my weakness, my LACK of “firstness” I make more room for His strength.
Oh, thank You.