February 2009

Mommy Math

I was never that great in math at school. Oh, I did fine in the elementary grades, when math pretty much consisted of the four basic functions as well as some story problems. I even did all right in some of the easier aspects of algebra. But when it came to the more advanced aspects of algebra, or anything beyond that—anything where you had to understand abstract mathematical theory and couldn’t see the whole problem right there on the paper—I struggled.

Languages were my strong suit. They came easily to me. Math? It was much more difficult.

There is one kind of math, however, in which I excel. I bet that, no matter what your math grades in school were, you excel in this kind of math too.

It’s called Mommy Math.

Traditional math—the kind we learned in school—is pretty restrictive. It’s much less creative. 2 + 2 always equals four. Story problems involve trains leaving different points in different directions at different speeds. There is only one right answer. If you and I have two different answers, at least one of us is wrong.

Mommy Math is different. Answers are flexible. Story problems are much more interesting. There can sometimes be two (or more) right answers. And it’s definitely much more practical.

Consider, for example, this Mommy Math story problem:

Mommy has thirty minutes left before company arrives for dinner. If Mommy has 3 young children and a 1600-sq.-foot house, how long will it take the children to mess up the entire house while Mommy is busy putting the finishing touches on the ham? Answer: two minutes. And it will happen right before the doorbell rings.

Or this one:

If you have three Hello Kitty utensils in the silverware basket in the dishwasher, handles pointing upward; two of them are forks and one is a spoon; and you have to draw out one of the forks if you have any hope of getting your daughter to eat what you’re about to put on her plate, what are the odds that the first Hello Kitty utensil you choose will be a fork? Answer: 0%. (Traditional math would say “2 out of 3”, but this would be wrong, because as any mommy knows, you would draw the unwanted spoon every single time.)

Or this oh-so-relevant one:

If you have four children and one husband, and you are trying to put a meal on the table that all six of you will eat, and Child #1 won’t eat anything with meat, Child #2 won’t eat anything that looks “weird”, Child #3 will choose one of the older two to copy in deciding what she won’t eat, and Child #4 won’t eat anything she liked yesterday; and if all you have in the kitchen is something that would take you an hour to prepare, which would ensure that none of the kids would eat it, how long will it take you to give up on the idea of eating a nutritious meal and fix mac-n-cheese for the third time this week? Answer: three seconds.

You see? I told you that you were good at this kind of math.

It takes some effort and studying to succeed at traditional math. It takes a whole lot more effort—and studying, and praying—to succeed at Mommy Math. That’s because Mommy Math is a lot harder. There’s not always one right answer, and even your best efforts to find an answer won’t always result in a good one. Sometimes, you’ll make mistakes, and you still won’t have any idea what to do to make it right.

Aren’t you glad God is never at a loss as to how to raise His children? Aren’t you grateful He’s never confused, like we are sometimes? Isn’t it wonderful that despite the vast differences in His children, He always knows exactly what to do for each one at any given moment?

Despite our best efforts, we flounder sometimes. We make mistakes. We sin. We get tired. We come up short.

But praise God, He never does any of those things.

Precious mommy, I don’t write this to make you—or myself—feel guilty. If you’re doing the best you can, and doing it with plenty of prayer and in God’s strength, He is pleased, and your efforts are enough.

I just want us all to remember what a wonderful heavenly Parent we have.

We often think of God as an authority figure, and He certainly is that. We even talk about His being our Father, but we don’t often stop to consider what that means.

Friend, it means that we have a Father who always loves us perfectly and individually. He always knows what’s best for us. He is always ready to take exactly the right action on anything concerning us. He knows when we need discipline, and when we need comfort. He knows when to encourage us onward, and when to let us rest. He is always available to us, no matter where we are physically, emotionally, or spiritually, and He never fails us.

Have you thanked Him lately for being such a wonderful Father?

Have you expressed your gratitude to Him for His parenting of you?

Mommy, I know that you do countless wonderful things for your children. I know you love them with all your heart. But even the most caring, loving earthly parent cannot match God’s perfect care and love.

As God’s children, we benefit from His perfect parenting. Let your heart respond in gratitude and love to God for this incredible blessing, and make sure you tell Him how you feel.

Psalm 117:2—For great is his love toward us, and the faithfulness of the LORD endures forever. Praise the Lord.

I Got a Blue!

That day, I stood at the stove cooking. (This in itself is memorable enough, but that’s not the point of this story.) My kids were in the living/dining area, playing. For a moment, I had some time to myself.

Then, I heard my son calling out excitedly and his footsteps running toward me.

“I got a blue! I got a blue! I got a blue!”

Kenny arrived in the kitchen, holding a Resurrection egg. (These are eggs that you use at Easter to help kids learn the Easter story. It was July, but I hadn’t put ours away yet since the kids enjoyed playing with them so much.) He held the egg up for me to see.

I don’t remember now whether I was just lost in my own thoughts, or whether I was tending to something on the stove. I do remember that I didn’t start to turn to him until after he was already standing there.

By the time I did start to give him my attention, he was running off.

I hadn’t been deliberately ignoring him, but I felt bad anyway. Even when I’m busy, I try to pay attention to my children whenever they have something special to show me. I want them to feel special and to know that I care about what interests them. This time, I had almost missed what Kenny was trying to show me. Another couple of seconds, and I would have missed it.

Two things come to mind as I think about this incident. The first is a bittersweet thought: our children won’t be this little forever. Someday, they won’t care anymore about showing us a blue egg…or a special rock…or a dirty feather. Those things will no longer interest them. Hopefully, by that time, we will have built relationships with them so that they still show us things—but those things will be different.

Today, it’s marbles and bugs and flowers.

Tomorrow, it’ll be makeup and driver’s licenses and SAT scores.

Oh, friend, don’t miss the precious treasures of today. If you do, you’ll miss out on more than blue eggs—you’ll miss out on joy.

And if you’re not interested today in seeing what they have to show you, they might not be as interested in showing you tomorrow.

The second thing that comes to mind with this memory is gratitude—gratitude to God the Father for never, ever being too busy or inattentive to pay attention to what I want to show Him. Sometimes, I’m “too busy” to tell Him things, but He’s never too busy to listen.

God never says, “Not right now. I’m busy.”

He doesn’t mumble, “Mm-hmm,” while not really listening.

And He doesn’t sigh and say, “Daddy needs to rest right now.”

Aren’t you grateful that our Father doesn’t suffer from the same human weaknesses we suffer from?

He’s never too tired to listen to one more prayer.

He’s never too preoccupied with His own needs to help us with ours.

He’s never disinterested in listening because he’s had a bad day.

Rather, He eagerly awaits hearing from us. He does everything possible to get us to share ourselves with Him. He even searches for us when we’re distant.

Friend, think of it, and praise God! The glorious, almighty God of the entire universe eagerly anticipates hearing from you. He invites you to come, He waits for you to come, and He rejoices when you do.

To Him, what you bring is never “only” a blue plastic egg—it’s a precious piece of yourself, and He loves it when you share yourself with Him.

We as earthly parents rejoice when our children share themselves with us, and God as our heavenly Parent does no less. In fact, He does more. As much as we want relationships with our children, God wants a relationship with us even more.

How incredible. How vastly incredible.

I don’t know how long it’s been since you spent time with Him, but spend some time with Him today. It may not be an hour of uninterrupted prayer and study, but God doesn’t necessarily require that. After all, He knows you’re a mom. He knows that the minute you try to sit down for some uninterrupted time with Him, your kids will find you. Maybe all you have today is a few seconds here and a minute there. Don’t waste them. Spend time with the Person Who loves you most, the One Who is most interested in you. Tell Him anything. Maybe you don’t have a blue Resurrection egg to bring, but you can bring Him what you have. Bring it to Him today. He’s waiting and eager to hear from you.

Ephesians 6:18—Pray…on all occasions with all kinds of prayers.

Making Comparisons

I’m a proud mommy. I think—no, I know—that my children are wonderful. They are marvelous, unique creations of God. Not only that, but they are also delightful to be around. They are special people—quirky, compassionate, curious, and funny. In short, they’re precious to me.

I’m sure that your children are equally precious to you, and that you love them as much as I do mine.

That’s how it should be. A mother should delight in her children and love them with all her heart.

But unfortunately, sometimes there can be a spirit of competition among mommies, where “my child is wonderful” turns into “my child is better than yours”.

You’ve heard the discussions:

Mommy #1: Sophia’s walking now.

Mommy #2: Oh, really? Stacey’s been walking for two months now.

Or:

Mommy #1: Brad is really enjoying soccer at the YMCA this season.

Mommy #2: We’ve had Tim in soccer since he was 2. He also plays basketball and football, and his coach says he might play for a college one day.

There’s nothing wrong with sharing our children’s accomplishments, including the things they are good at. The wrong comes in when we imply that our child is better because his skills are better.

Often, the comparisons we make between our children are out loud. Sometimes, they’re not (“My child would never behave that way at the store,” we think to ourselves). Whether spoken or silent, the comparisons are hurtful, because it trains our minds to value someone based on qualities or accomplishments, not on her identity as a valuable creation of God.

We make comparisons about ourselves as mothers, too.

We compare ourselves to some arbitrary, unrealistic standard and then get down on ourselves for not being able to live up to it. For instance? I’m not as pretty as other mothers, we think. Or, I should be able to manage three small children, keep a perfect house, be an untiring lover, and serve gourmet meals. Or, If she can do it, why can’t I?

Equally sinful is believing that we have attained perfection in a certain area and becoming prideful.

Oh, friend, do you see what’s happening here? When we make comparisons, whether about ourselves or about our children, we are not only tearing the other mother or child down, we are also eating away at our own soul. You see, we must never, ever, evaluate someone’s worth based on characteristics or accomplishments. Your worth is not because you are the most organized mom on the block, or because your kids are better behaved than someone else’s, or because you always look fashionable.

Let me say it again, sweet mommy friend—these things have nothing to do with your worth.

Absolutely nothing.

You are of inestimable value and worth because you are a creation of God. You are wonderfully made. God’s work in making you was and is marvelous. You are made in the image of God. You can take part in reflecting God’s glory. You are loved by God Himself.

That’s why you are of great price—not because you wear a certain hairstyle, or have a master’s degree, or your house looks like Martha Stewart lives there, or every other mommy on the block wants to be like you.

Your worth is always and only because God says you are valuable.

Think about it—the very God who made the universe says that you are important. Out of all the kinds of people He could have made, He chose to make you, because He wanted someone like you.

There’s no way that the right shoes or the right house or the right occupation can improve on that.

So take it to heart, mommy friend. Know that you are valuable and you are loved. Give yourself a break from comparing yourself to other mommies. You see, the comparisons really don’t matter. So what if you’re “more” than someone else? So what if you’re “less”?

God loves you, and He says that you are of great worth to Him. Let that be enough for you—because it’s everything.

Psalm 139:14—I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.

Walking Away

Two years ago, my family and I went to Branson, Missouri, to visit my mom and stepfather. At the time, Ellie was four, Kenny was two and a half, Lindsey was one, and I was a couple months pregnant with Jessica. One day, we decided to take the kids to a beautiful lake not too far from where we were staying. We loaded up all the gear we would need—towels, sunscreen, plastic inflatable toys, water shoes—and headed for the lake.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and it was warm, but not too hot (especially considering that we are used to Texas summers). The scenery was gorgeous. The water was perfectly clear. Best of all, since it was fairly early in the morning, there was only one other family at this little beach.

We staked out a spot and headed for the water. The two younger kids wanted to stay where it was still quite shallow, so I sat in the water as they played around me. We even noticed about a million little fishes that swam by just a little further out. Wow! Fish! Right there! The kids were excited, though a little scared.

My husband took Ellie on one of the inflatables out into deeper water, where he could pull her along and she could float. They were having a grand time, and so were we, playing together. It was all brand new to the kids. I felt so relaxed, sitting in the water and feeling it lap around me, being just the right temperature, enjoying the beautiful scenery in the sunny quiet, and being with the people I loved most in all the world.

All too soon, it was time to go. The kids were getting tired. So we got out of the water. I made sure the little kids were following me. Lindsey ran on ahead as we made our way towards where we had left our towels and other stuff. Kenny trailed behind.

Actually, Kenny was what we call “dinking around”—that is, not following promptly. I encouraged him one more time to follow me, and then I turned away and began walking—slowly—hoping he would decide to follow.

Instead, after I had taken a few steps, he began to wail.

I turned back to see him rooted to the spot where he had been when I turned away from him. He was wailing, the tears flowing down his face.

It was a clear that Kenny felt abandoned and afraid.

Immediately, I turned back. I went to him, hugged him, and then scooped him up into my arms, holding him close and saying, “It’s okay, Kenny. Mommy’s here.”

I carried him back to the van that way, secure in my arms, comforting him with my touch, my voice, and my nearness.

It wasn’t until later that I thought about how this reflects our relationship with God.

Sometimes, it feels like God is walking away, doesn’t it?

Leaving us behind. Abandoning us.

Maybe we’ve gone through a season of hurt where it felt like instead of being close to us, God was more distant than ever before.

Maybe it felt like we were falling further behind, getting more and more desperate, until finally we were so far behind we could only see God disappearing in the distance.

What do we do during those times?

Sometimes, we get angry. We get mad at God for not making us feel better. For letting us hurt. Fine, we think, walk away. I’ll make it on my own, if that’s what I have to do.

Sometimes, like Kenny did, we simply wail out our anguish, as God (we think) gets farther and farther away.

What should we do? What is the right response when we feel distant from God, and we’re afraid, and we desperately need him?

Do what Kenny did.

Cry out.

Wail out your anguish to God.

You see, if I, as a human mother, heard my son’s anguish, was moved with compassion in my heart for him, and responded, how much more will God, the perfect Parent, respond to our heart’s cry?

Dear friend, it’s true that sometimes, God won’t fix our situation. Sometimes, no matter how much we cry out, the pain and grief will not disappear. They are something to be worked through, not something to get rid of.

But though He won’t always respond by fixing our situation, God will respond with Himself.

You see, God has promised. And He cannot and will not lie.

When you need Him, cry out. He’s there. It may look and feel like He’s far away, but He’s as close as your heart, and ready to respond when you need Him.

Is life going well for you right now? Call Him. He’s there to rejoice with you.

Is life more painful than you ever imagined? Cry out to Him. He’s there to grieve with you.

Crawl into his lap, lay your head on His chest, and feel His loving arms around you, holding you close.

Or if you can’t even crawl, then just cry out.

He will come to you.

Psalm 55:17—Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice.