March 28, 2012

• {a mother’s prayer}

  
  
  The little girls and I were set to leave on a trip yesterday…
  heading south, a few hours from here, to a little town where Shayne is working for the week.
  The plan was just to hang out a few days. enjoy a hotel room. and be near daddy.
  
  We were supposed to leave earlier.
  but it was one of those days. with one thing after the other, after the other.
  
  Like, not showering until nearly noon.
  then, hearing the doorbell. shutting the water off. hearing Emma open the door, talking to someone…
  and all I can think is, “nooooooooo! someone’s going to kidnap her!!!!”
  
  So I jump out. throw the large beach towel with the giant watermelon’s on it around me,
  and run out into the hall, leaning over the banister.
  
  “hi. hello. I’m here.. Emma get back. Sorry. just got out of the shower. ..”
  
  turns out it wasn’t a kidnapper at all.
  unless one disguised like a grandma, returning our dog!
  
  Oh, yes. I knew he’d run away. this time I didn’t chase.
  Apparently the kind grandmotherly lady did for me.
  
  I apologized for the dog. and for being wrapped in a towel.
  
  and. so rather went the nuttiness of our day..
  
  Finally. way later than I had planned on leaving, the van was loaded up…
  pack & play. pillows. extra diapers.and all the things I always marvel it takes for one baby!
  the little girls were both fastened safely in their car seats.
  and with a final run back inside for something, and another goodbye to my big girl – just getting home shortly before…
  
  suddenly. with the goodbye there’s tears. and something about a horrible day at school and girl drama…
  and I see it in her eyes as she tries to assure me, “I’m fine.” that she isn’t
  
  I only caught bits and pieces, not sure all that had happened, but sure of one thing -
  she needed me, and this mama wasn’t going anywhere!
  
  There’s times I’m discovering with these older ones,
  where you have to give them space to sort and work out on their own..
  but there’s times too you just gotta be there.
  
  and I don’t always get those two right.
  sometimes I give space, when I should stay.
  and stay, when space is needed. 

  
  
  It’s hard at times interpreting what’s being said between the lines.
  the emotions in their eyes.. is it determination? defiance??
  Oh, at times just to have a baby’s diaper to change again, instead of this searching,
  trying to get right what’s needed most.
  With a dirty diaper, hey, you knew exactly what needed fixing. needed your attention.
  you smelt it. and dealt with it.
  
  messes of the heart are much tougher.
  
  But. through some more tears and a McDonald’s milkshake, we work through the mess together.
  and I mostly listen. and remind myself to listen.
  I try to nod and help and soothe and sort.
  
  I think of all the things maybe I should say.
  the great mom moment to make this a learning experience…
  to remind of the wonderful character being built.
  and yet. talking isn’t always necessary. and I’m not always good at realizing that.
  
  I think of how, of course, this sort of thing always seems to happen when Shayne is gone.
  and how I wish he were here. the calmer parent. much wiser too.
  
  I think again – as I have a hundred times during just such listening moments like this – how we’re all so hard wired the same.
  no matter what the age.. the need for acceptance. approval. to matter.
  
  and I think of my last blog post. of words and forgiveness.
  
  How different it is for me to deal with that for myself. though painful..
  not nearly as much as when I’m watching my kid go through it. the pain is ten times as intense.
  
  I want to make it all go away.
  like in the old days when she was little and a scrapped knee was fixed by a magical kiss…
  the fixing part as they get older isn’t always so easy.
  
  and I know I can’t.
  
  Even as I entertain thoughts of banging some bimbo heads together, instead of pointing her to the right response -
  I know if I step in and do the whole mama bear roaring loud and long at anyone who messes with one of my babies –
  what, in the end, does that fix?
  
  sometimes our trying to “fix” only hurts more.
  sometimes our trying to “fix” does our kids a disservice..
  
  And I choke on tears myself, as I hear so much of myself in her words.
  and I sigh deep and try to speak truth. of being gracious. humble. willing to own the part you were wrong.
  
  and later. as I slip into bed and pull the covers up high to my chin..
  the thoughts of the day rushing in.
  I shut my eyes hard and pray hard. a prayer I pray often as a mom.
  
  it’s not long. it’s not flowery.
  there are only 2 words, but oh, how I cling to those two words…
  
  simply.
  
  “Lord, help!”
  
  and though surrounded by so many feelings of inadequacy. of seeing how I fumble and fail…
  the questioning and second guessing myself.
  yet still. I feel the Heavenly Father’s calm.
  
  “I called on the LORD in my distress. I cried to my God for help. and He heard my voice, and answered me..“ 
  
  every day as I face new challenges. tread new waters. stumble in the journey.
  
  I cry out for His help.
  and He gives it!
  
  
  *****

  
  
  
  

  Looking at these shots above I wonder where the years have gone.
  then I know. I see it on her face. on mine.
  the years we’ve grown up and grown old{er} together.  

  *****
  
  and now. a new day. fresh mercies. teenage emotions calmed.
  so, the little girls and I will try again to set out on our trip..
   
  we’re headed to a place called Dunnville.
  doesn’t that just sound like an adventure waiting to be had!
  
  
  Happy Wednesday friends~

  ´¸.·¨) ¸.·¨)
  (¸.·´ (¸.·´ (¸.·¨¯`♥ amber
  

  • 9:45 am
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