If it were up to me, my children would be permanently wrapped in bubble wrap when they leave the house. Head to toe. Protected from the world. Or, better yet, they’d wear helmets all the time and in every scenario. Extreme, I know.
Fear, the kind that cripples me and keeps me from living my everyday life, hit me after I passed my first test of motherhood – the one where the score is either negative or positive. I passed with flying colors right away and then a wall of “what if’s” hit me. Suddenly, I knew what was at stake, and I knew how much I could lose.
Before my induction to motherhood, I had never been gripped by that type of paralyzing fret and worry. Six years in and I can walk into a friend’s house, take one look at their cushy, comfy sofa and tell you just how many stitches one could get from flipping off it backwards. Within seconds of arriving I am instructing the boys to sit on their bottoms, not jump so high, or be so jittery. It’s debilitating to them when a fun afternoon turns into a list of what not to do and how to behave.
This type of fear is how I ruined my oldest son’s kindergarten registration. It was set to be a big event ushering him into this new season – almost a bit ceremonial. Our little family hopped on a school bus and rode to explore his new school for the first time. Sounds like fun, unless your mom is a buzz kill {like me} and then everything you touch can either give you the stomach bug or may have lice on it. Yuck! When it was over and we started to leave, I saw the look of sadness on his face. I had stifled his new adventure. I kept him from the wonder of exploring this new place. The hallways were filled with artwork and Pinteresty-teacher-type things. Creativity was all around him and I didn’t let him get close enough to take it all in. His excitement was met with my words of instruction over and over – “don’t touch that” and “come back over here”. It was like he could see it, but I wouldn’t let him breathe it all in.
That anxiety, is my issue. All mine. That joy, should’ve been all his. He missed seeing the colors, the new faces, the fun that was happening there. I kept him from the wonder of it all.
If you asked my husband, he’d tell you this happens all the time. He’d also tell you that’s exactly why God gave me two energetic, curious, adventurous little boys and gave them a daddy who only amplifies their energy. Certainly there’s a healthy bit of mothering, caring, and protecting that I’ve been gifted with, but when it’s the only thing I can see and a play date with a friend soon becomes the breeding ground for all the “but, what if’s…” there’s an innocence that I am stealing away from their childhood.
It’s something I struggle with all day, every day. In the summer, it’s magnified. Back yards to me have become about snakes, bugs, and lawnmowers with blades. Then Saturday morning comes and I watch from the window in the kitchen – they are running, laughing, and filthy dirty – as it should be. It keeps me from being a part of their journey – always looking in from the outside.
So, this has been a summer of stepping out for me. The Kindergarten Registration incident helped me see how ridiculous I have become. My apprehensions have truly been rooted in a selfish place in my heart. What I know is that it comes from a place of not trusting God and resting in the fact that He blessed me with these wonderfully, wild sons and He loves them even more than I ever could. And if my actions have already caused scars or unease in their little hearts, I pray they see me handing my worry over to God. Let it be a visual in their lives allowing them to see how faith can replace fear. May they have memories of catching lightening bugs, campouts {with mom and dad}, bike riding, belly laughs, and so many opportunities to go about exploring the world around them. I’ve been praying that God will help me see the beauty in all things rather than allowing the fear to creep in my heart. I want to see the excitement and wonder on their faces when they encounter the world around them and not snuff out their adventurous spirits – whether it be on trampolines this summer or as our oldest heads off to Kindergarten in the Fall.
Have you allowed your fear to steal your child’s pleasure? What do you need to hand over to God this summer?
You my sweet niece are a wonderful mom and that is why He gave you Aaron to balance the two of you. I love you.