The sun was streaming its perfect golden light into our minivan. My two oldest boys were singing along with their favorite song loudly for the fifteenth time in 30 minutes. I didn’t mind. Not one bit. The baby was still clapping. I watched as both older boys nodded their heads to the beat and boldly sang the lyrics. My eldest has a prominent southern twang which makes my heart both cringe and smile.
As the song ended, I cheerfully asked the boys if they wanted to sing that song at church. My eldest frowned and replied scornfully, “Not even if God hated me. I wouldn’t sing that in front of anyone even if God hated me.”
The words lingered in the air like the aftermath of a bomb. His little brother had just joyfully proclaimed he had brought his guitar and planned on asking the pastor to sing on stage. Meanwhile, my oldest son is equating God’s wrath with performance.
I immediately went into mom mode. My heart lurched and my head spun at the gravity of his statements. Finally, my lips parted, “It does not matter if you ever get on stage, son. God hears the person at home. He hears the person on stage. He hears the person in the pew. He hears our hearts all at exactly the same volume and He is so pleased anytime our hearts tune into Him,”.
As we drove some more my mind flashed back to earlier in the day. A foreshadowing of sorts. My (newly) five year old lay on the floor in a full blown screaming fit. His long limbs (he is often mistaken for an 8 year old due to his size) flailing, his eyes watering, face red, “I just wish I was normal and this stuff didn’t bother me!”
In one heartbeat I went from about to pull out a paddle mode to compassionate, tuned in mom mode. Normal? What is normal? And why does my five year old even understand this concept?
I scooped up all 58lbs of him and held him close. Gently, I prodded, “What do you mean?”
“I just wish this stuff didn’t bother me. I wish I could get the bumps in my socks out of my head. I wish I could quit thinking about it,”.
There.
My sweet boy.
As tears sprang into my eyes, I held him closer and tighter. I smelled the half sour, half sweet smell he has. I kiss the gentle curve where his neck and shoulder meet and snuggled him even more.
My heart yearned to make this easier. I have observed my firstborn as he struggles with certain things other children do not. I have known this day would come. When his own realization would be made. I knew he would eventually notice mom does not care about the bumps in her socks. He would see how it only takes his brother thirty seconds to put on shoes while he battles against himself for ten plus minutes to have everything in his desired manner.
As I nuzzled this precious son, I finally exhaled and said, “Everyone is designed by God. We all are created especially by Him. He created and then declared what He made good. God is proud of you. He will help you.”
You guys. The truth is, I’m kind of lost in this motherhood thing. The joke is that once you’ve kept a couple kids alive for a while, no one will question your parenting. However, I question mine every single day. I lay it all out in my head. I have these amazing intentions. Yet I have to sit back and watch my oldest struggle through the webs of his own design.
Why must it be so?
Why can’t he just follow suit?
Why isn’t he like his brothers?
I don’t know the answer to that.
Other than to say that I know my God has a beautiful plan for his life. I trust that He is working all things together for my son’s good.
Why did I share these little anecdotes? I’ve spent over a year holding my cards so close regarding the struggles my eldest faces in the day to day. Recently, a friend opened up online about some serious struggles her fellow has had. It encouraged me. It inspired me.
That is why I write this today. May your mama heart be encouraged and edified. Behind the perfect IG layouts and witty FB statuses are the in between moments not so easily captured in one photo or a sentence or two. We all have our demons. Mother. Son. Husband. Sister. Grandmother. Uncle.
Whatever your role.
Be encouraged that His light is our hope in every situation and as we point the little lives around us in the way they should go, they will find Love waiting there for them.
Wholly Mom,
