Hello, friends!
I wanted to share a little anecdote of something that happened this week that refreshed again, in my heart, how we need to be different from some parts of our culture. Home schooling already sets us apart a little bit from a cultural norm, but even just how we approach parenthood needs to be distinct in it's perspective!
We went to a home improvement store to get parts to repair a plumbing leak under one of our sinks, and I don’t know if I looked more frazzled than usual or what, but a lady employee stopped in the aisle and stared at me for a moment and said,
“Do you need help?”
I laughed and asked if I looked that lost (she said that everyone looks lost in their store), and then requested directions to the plumbing aisle.
“Are these all yours?” She asked as she walked us across to the right section. She eyed my three kids a bit askance and then looked at me. “Yikes, mom.” After asking ages grades (but not questioning why they weren’t in school, thanks, pandemic!) she stopped me again and said, “Your husband better treat you really good.”
I was astonished but I assured her that he did and then I went on to tell her that I wouldn’t trade having my three kiddos for anything. She commented something about how busy they must keep me, and I replied again how much I loved them and how grateful I was that I got to be their mom, and laughing I added that of course it was work, but most worthwhile things are! (Bear in mind, this woman didn't know that we homeschool--just the mere presence of the three kids with me had triggered this concern somehow.)
We ran into her a couple other times throughout the store and she always looked at me with a very worried expression and asked if I was finding everything I needed and if I was sure I was OK. Her open concern was so disconcerting, I went into the restroom and checked in the mirror to make sure there wasn’t something wrong!
As we finally wrapped up to go home with our plumbing parts, three men walked past.
“Ay, I bet these three keep you busy!” One commented. My kids immediately began chatting with them for a moment, and the elderly man in the group tousled one of my boy’s hair and asked if he was helping mama to fix something.
“Yes sir,” he replied smiling.
"I bet you are all good helpers, aren't you?" he asked. They all assured him they were, and smilingly, we departed.
I couldn't help but to be struck by these two very different responses to being in public with my kids. To be fair I take my kids everywhere, and there are times when their behavior, ahem, may attract less-than-optimum attention. But they weren't doing anything remarkable in this store (unless behaving quietly and calmly is remarkable, which it is, sometimes!).
I don't want to discount the concern of a stranger who, I assume, was just trying to make sure everything was all right. But it struck me a little jarringly, and as I pondered it on the way home, I realized that she came at the whole interaction with the underlying assumption that kids were an unwanted burden, that I had better things to do with my time, and that my three kids were a visible liability to a woman's happiness.
This made me sad for her. Obviously motherhood IS a tough calling in some ways (and some seasons are DEFINITELY less cheery than others) but I absolutely love my kids. I love them so much that I CHOOSE to spend all my time with them, and to go to the extra trouble of also holding on the role of their teacher, a job which in our culture is easily delegated. Yes they keep me busy, but it's a good busy.
It struck me that I never, ever want my kids to get the sense from me that I wish they weren't in my life. It's so easy to slip into rut of thinking only of how inconvenient this season is--how much easier it would be to shop for plumbing supplies without them. Of course I find them frustrating at times--they're sinners and I'm a sinner! They've probably even heard me express my frustration--but I resolved on the way home to nurture and develop a perspective on children that matched more what my other interaction that day in the store communicated. It, too, acknowledged that the kids keep me busy, but it also acknowledged the joy. "Are you helping your mama? I bet you are all good helpers, aren't you?"
Children are a gift from the Lord, they are a reward from Him. (Psalm 127:3)
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