still watching sleeping heads.
I watch kids sleep as much now as I did when they were babies.
In those infant days I was checking for breathing.
Hovering over their bitty heads and listening for breath sounds.
Staring with sleepy eyes at their itty chests to see if I could notice the tiny rise and fall of breaths taken in and breaths breathed out.
The fears I am fending off internally now are not altogether different than they were then though.
Am I wrecking this one?
How can I possibly get this right?
There is no way I am a good enough momma to manage this.
Their bodies are much bigger now.
The crib has been dismantled, repurposed, faded, discarded.
It’s all regular beds and I can barely carry anyone up the stairs these days.
But I’m still talking down the voices in my head when I watch my Big Kids after they’ve fallen asleep.
Am I wrecking this one?
How am I doing anything right?
Do they know I love them?
How can I protect them?
There is no way I am a good enough momma to manage this.
Those voices that tell me a shield surrounding them is my only hope.
That try to tell me that I have an even bigger responsibility than I actually do.
That try to convince me the weight of my children’s future lives resides singularly heavy on my momma shoulders.
The voices that say if I don’t get it right, I’ll ruin them forever.
It all amounts to the same thing – a decade later.
Watching for the chest to rise and fall.
Poking them a little to be sure they are okay.
It all amounts to the exact same thing:
fear.
And a dangerous placing of myself in a position for which I was never actually designed.
I am not the author and the finisher of their lives.
I do not hold the key or the ring or the plot summary for their stories.
I am neither the designer nor the keeper of their Big Picture.
Maybe I’m little more like – a guardian. A gatekeeper. A sign post. A guide. An arrow that is pointing in one direction.
I’m their mom.
And that’s a lot.
But it’s not everything.
And remembering this truth during the late night watches is both frightening and freeing.
12 Comments
Kristie
so good Lacey. I needed to read this.
laceykeigley
thank you.
can’t wait to see you soon!
Lana
The hardest thing about having five adult children is realizing that I am not responsible for their choices now. It is easy to think that if this or that had not happened then some would not be making some bad choices now. But, then I realize that all five grew up in the same house and not all have taken that ugly road. Pray, pray, pray is all we can do. I hold them out to God on my open palm and ask Him to do what must be done to bring them back to Him. In no way do I think my parenting was perfect but there was a point where I had to transfer their lives over to themselves. It was hard.
From what I see here you are doing a great job and in many ways you are so much more connected daily than I ever was. Hugs! You can do it!
laceykeigley
Your comments are always so encouraging – thank you for taking the time to read and leave your wisdom with me – and with my other readers.
judy kay
Yes. To every word. From the panic that rises in my heart when my eyes are so quick to see all of my shortcomings, to the sweet relief when I’m able to remember the truth that my big God is at work in my kids (and myself!) despite my failures and not because of my successes.
laceykeigley
I love getting to hang out with you more – and seeing the real and the lovely and the normal way you parent.
It’s refreshing.
Crystal
Well put. I feel the same way, and really like your last part, knowing we are not the end all is frightening and freeing. Frightening to know I helpless to protect them all life throws at them, including myself, but ultimately freeing to know they have a much bigger protector Who is their all-knowing Creator!
laceykeigley
Frightening and freeing.
For so much in life.
Sara
My study this morning seems so applicable.
We continually take on more than God designed, it seems. We are hard-pressed to truly trust Him and allow Him control. Our heads know for sure that we are not in control of one iota of our lives, but our hard hearts still long for control.
Just before Jesus left this earth, He told His fearful, clinging disciples to “wait for the promise of the Father.” Waiting is not my strong suit at all. I want to fix and know and understand. (Maybe want to be “like God?”)
But the result of waiting, as stated in the first four chapters of Acts, was that they would be “strong, powerful witnesses for Jesus, speaking His Word with boldness, proclaiming the Resurrection with grace.”
The Lord spoke to Zerubbabel in Zechariah 4:6 as I believe He does to us today:
This is the Word of the Lord unto Zerubbabel, saying: Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts.
Oh, for patient waiting on the Lord so that we may “proclaim the Resurrection with grace”! And may this Truth sink deep into my heart, that it’s not by anything I can do or fix, but by His Spirit!
Our Hard are all different and your is incredibly great, but the lesson to be learned seems to be the same: Wait. Trust.
laceykeigley
The lesson to learn is so often the same – I think that’s what makes us all need one another – the universality of so much of our lives.
Nikkie
Yep, me too, Lacey. Stay the course.
laceykeigley
Can I just say – good to see you here —– 🙂