Whether your children are still at home with you all day long, or you send them to school for long stretches of the day, motherhood can feel like a solo act.
We wander lonely as Clouds from time to time, don’t we?
I’m here to encourage you moms who are feeling lonely, who feel you lack purpose, you are not alone. It’s hard to push ourselves outside the boundaries of motherhood and seek the Daffodils of life.
If you Google the phrase “Do Mothers Feel Fulfilled?” you will see countless articles speaking to this very natural struggle that takes place when we become the caretakers of small children. We love them dearly, and we know that we have value in this world through them, and yet…
We so often struggle with this feeling of not being enough. We aren’t doing enough. We aren’t contributing enough. We aren’t good enough.
I’m here to tell you (and myself) that these feelings are completely normal and natural, and they will ebb and flow through the years. Earlier this year, I felt ballooned with purpose. I was excited to get up every day. I felt fulfilled both in work and at home. I felt like I was on my game.
This last month? Not so much. I’m bored. I feel like my career is at a stand still. I feel like everyone but me is accomplishing goals. I feel frustrated as a mom, as a writer, as a human being.
Motherhood comes with seasons of great joy, and moments of loneliness – of wandering and of dancing. Just don’t give up, Moms! Don’t give up on your dreams, don’t give up on your house, don’t give up on the kids, and whatever you do don’t give up on the laundry, because you will never be able to crawl out from under it.
Sometimes we dance like the daffodils. Other times we wander like the cloud.
But my gosh, our job is important. Whether we work inside or outside the home. Whether we have one or ten kids. Whether our kids are grown and living independently or still in diapers. We are doing amazing work – even when we don’t feel amazing.
So this one is for the moms who are feeling down, who are feeling like they just aren’t enough.
Dance with the daffodils, my friends. You are enough.
“Okay, Tia,” the teacher said. “I want you to close your eyes right now. We’re going to play a game.”
I looked on as my daughter compliantly squeezed her eyes shut. We were sitting in the kitchen with a retired second grade teacher who is giving Tia a few tips and tricks to strengthen her reading comprehension. One of the things she noticed right away was that my daughter (a realist, and about as literal a child as they come) was not connecting the the text she was reading.
“Now,” the teacher said gently. “The characters in this story are named Bob, Tom and Jack. Tell me, Tia. What does Jack look like?”
Tia opened her eyes and looked at the teacher in surprise.
“Close your eyes,” the teacher reminded her with a smile. “I want you to use your imagination and tell me what you think Jack looks like. What is he wearing?”
“Uuuummmm…shorts and a t-shirt?” Tia asked.
“Okay,” the teacher said with a smile. “What about Tom?”
“Uh…jeans and a long sleeve shirt?”
“And Bob?”
Tia squeezed her eyes tight and I could see her trying very hard to figure out this obscure exercise in imagination. “Um…a long sleeve shirt and shorts?”
That was the best she could do. This is my child who is not imaginative. She is not one to get lost in story, or to play make believe. She never has been that way – it is simply not the way she was wired. All of her play is centered around real life, or around stories she has heard before. She’s not one to make up her own stories, but rather will regurgitate that which has already been told.
I’m okay with this, though I confess that for a dreamer/imaginer like myself, it is sometimes baffling to watch her process the world. How did I end up with a child who can’t find a shape in a cloud, or close her eyes and imagine a world where the sky isn’t blue?
I’ll tell you how – I married a literalist, and she is just like her daddy.
I had to bite my lip from laughing at her that day with the teacher. She seemed entirely befuddled by this little game, and as I explained the nature of her personality to the teacher later, both of us agreed that she will likely struggle less with nonfiction books that fiction.
It’s hard to connect with a text when you can’t really see the pictures in your mind.
That’s not to say we won’t keep trying. It’s a necessary skill that I want her to develop, but it won’t ever come naturally to her.
Yesterday, she and I sat down to work on her reading. She pulled out The Magic Treehouse and slowly began to read. I stopped her after the first paragraph.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s practice what Miss Eileen taught you. After reading this paragraph what picture do you have in your mind of Jack and Annie?”
Tia looking at me pointedly. “Yeah…that doesn’t work for me,” she said. “When I closed my eyes I could only see black. How am I supposed to know what Jack looks like with my eyes closed?!”
I love that child. I love the fact that she holds nothing back. It can be infuriating and baffling at times, but also a breath of fresh air. We always know exactly where she stands on an issue. If she doesn’t like something, she will tell you. She doesn’t have time to pretend to like it.
And please don’t ask her to waste time on fantasies. She has too many real dreams to pursue. Like this list of goals she wrote down yesterday.
She’s still a dreamer, you see. Her dreams are simply steeped in the actual world around her.
In the early days of our marriage, Lee and I lived in an apartment the size of a matchbox in Frisco, Texas. Miles from our home, a new church was in it’s early stages, still meeting in a local school while a building was being constructed. This church was led by Chuck Swindoll, an author both of us had long admired, and we quickly discovered that his preaching was the perfect fit for two kids playing house and trying desperately to grow up.
Every Sunday for two years we left our apartment early and traveled the two miles from home to church where we made it a point to sit on the second row, right next to Chuck’s wife Cynthia. We soaked in every word of his preaching, taking pages and pages of notes as we gleaned from his wisdom and his charisma.
Over the years, we have kept track of Pastor Swindoll through his Insight for Living broadcast, and on occasion we order a series of messages that we feel would be particularly beneficial. Last fall, we purchased his series on Biblical Parenting, and the first sermon alone left such an impact that I think on the message often.
He started by breaking down a verse that’s given me a great deal of consternation for the last few years. It’s a verse that I’ve long felt was misunderstood and misquoted often to the detriment of both parents and children.
Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6
This verse was always explained to me in such a way that if I raise my children in a strong, Bible believing household, and point them to the Lord, then when they grow old, they will naturally follow that path and not turn from it. The advice seems sound enough, and the message is nice to hear when you have young children who are easily trainable.
But what happens when those children grow up and rebel?
What about the children who choose to depart from their parent’s teaching, or from the church of their youth?
What happens when children question and doubt, and perhaps even turn their back on the Lord?
What are parents supposed to think then?
I’ve long felt that the common interpretation of this verse sets children up for unrealistic expectations of perfection, and sets parents up for a world of heartache and guilt if, indeed, their children choose to take a different path.
Chuck Swindoll set my mind and heart at ease when he broke down the literal interpretation of this verse. Proverbs 22:6 instructs parents to raise their children in the way they are bent.
We are to recognize the natural talents, passions, and gifts that our children possess, and train them up according to those things, so that when they grow old they will know who God created them to be. They will grow with a confidence in who they are, and in their purpose on this earth. This sets children up for success far more than a simplistic view that if they know Jesus at 6, they will know him at 26.
Does this mean they will stay the course and resist temptation? No, it does not. I pray daily that my children will make it through adolescence and young adulthood with a strong sense of faith and trust in the Lord, but I do not expect to raise perfect little robots who never fail, never make mistakes.
We must take the time to really watch our children, to observe them closely, and to take note of the traits that make each of them unique, and then we must heartily and graciously point them toward those naturals bents, even if they differ from what we would desire for them.
Is your child a gifted musician? Does he have an ear for music that comes naturally? Then by all means, buy him a guitar, give him a piano, or purchase a set of drums and some good ear plugs and let him flourish.
Don’t try to make him a quarterback if his natural gifting and desire lean toward music. Don’t try to make a musician out of a child that loves soccer. Don’t try to make a bookworm out of a thrill seeker.
We all recognize giftings in our children, and we naturally want to develop those. Sometimes we see a gift, but quickly realize that they don’t have a passion for that activity, and we have to make the hard choice to sit back and let them walk away from something in which they could potentially excel. Because the fact is, talent without passion can only take us so far before it all falls apart.
How are you doing at recognizing your children’s natural bents? Do you see untapped potential in your child that you could affirm? Point them in the way they should go, and when they’re old, they won’t depart from it.
