mother day’s often leaves me reflecting on all the ways i am failing as the assigned maternal figure in my kids lives, praying desperate prayers for God to fill in my incredibly large gaps. not to mention begging that He give them limited memories of their childhood which focus on the times i let them eat on the couch or cuddled them affectionately after a particularly nasty encounter with the driveway pavement. i don’t know if it makes it better or worse when the kids hand over their precious homemade gifts and cards. should i  weep with joy at the thought that i might not be doing as badly as i think i am or weep with sorrow that they don’t know any better.

this past weekend, i was asked to speak at a mother’s day brunch. free food, a bunch of like-minded moms and i manage to avoid saturday morning chores? i am in. of course, i wanted to give the ladies something to justify sharing their breakfast casserole and pastries with me so i decided to go with a top ten list. top ten truths i tell my kids. top ten truths i ought to be telling myself too. so here is the first half of my list with the second half soon to follow. hopefully they will help next time i decide to kick myself when i am down and hopefully they will help you as well.

number ten: just do your best. when the crayon refuses to stay within the lines or the math problem will not yield to logic, i try to remind my kids to take a breath and push on. they may not make the best picture or ace algebra but sometimes “good enough” is good enough. and when i feel like the universe will explode if i don’t make dinner on time or always answer with my patient voice, i need to remember to just do my best. God loves the universe (not to mention my kids and me) enough to not place the fate of all mankind in my hands.

number nine: be content in the now and don’t wish away the stage you are in. “when i grow up…” is an often uttered phrase in our household and one that i wish i could erase forever. i want to shake them and say “life is a blink. you will only have this year, this day, this moment once. savor it.” i want to shake them and then go back to thinking “when i grow up…” here and now, i have a purpose. it is all i am promised and i wish i savored more of the now. oh well, maybe when i grow up.

number eight: life isn’t about you. each day, at the same time, i get a sick feeling in my stomach. no, it isn’t because i ate too many oreos (my oreo eating time varies from day to day). it is chore time. i call out in the cheerfullest of voices “chore time!” and then brace for impact. the response is usually something like “noooooooo!” this is where i go into my “if we all work together, it will go by so quickly” speech which translates “you aren’t sticking me with all this mess to clean up by myself, kiddo.” in the same way my kids dread chore time, i too dread that inner voice calling me to do my part. “nooooo!” my selfish heart calls. Lord, give me the grace to answer your call in my cheerfullest voice.

number seven: don’t complain about responsibilities you have chosen to take on. closely related to number eight, this one refers to complaints regarding volunteered for responsibilities (such as guinea pigs and lizards) as opposed to responsibilities you were assigned (such as cleaning the toilet or taking out the recycling ). while i roll my eyes in disgust at my children’s lack of gratitude for their pets and other sundry work-requiring privileges , i really should be giving my forehead a big smack. how often do i complain about “the burdens” i am carrying, the burdens i called blessings when i asked for them. may i daily give thanks for these blessings and ask for the grace to carry them.

number six: let he who is without sin cast the first stone. one of my favorite familiar ironies is the accusations which often fly around the dinner table immediately following prayer time. “so and so had his eyes open while we were praying!” everyone knows that God is unable to hear our prayers unless everyone’s eyes are tightly closed. putting that fact aside, assuming that God has not granted you transparent eyelids, your eyes were in fact open as well. how often are my eyes scoping out others rather than looking inward, or better yet upward? grant me eyes that see only You, God.

to be continued…