When my children were little, their exploits could be shared because the stories themselves were universal in nature even if the details differed. Who hasn’t dealt with a squirmy toddler who makes getting dressed in the morning an Olympic sport? What parent doesn’t know the seemingly endless grief of trying to be patient with a child who simply will not go to bed. Potty training, lost shoes, getting buckled into or out of the car, schedules, check ups, the list goes on, but the time flies by. They were funny moments preserved in internet amber.
Now that they are older, the stories may be universal but they no longer are mine to share. The internet is no less feral than when it took off, and capturing the roughness of growing up seems almost a cruelty to those in the process of trying to do it. So I don’t tell stories about my teens or even my college age or adult children not because I want to preserve a pollyanna “Everything is awesome!” fascade, but because my first job as a parent is to protect them from the world even as I try to educate them in the faith and about adulthood.
My own adolescent journey contains -as all of ours do, cringe worthy moments that I don’t want to revisit, and so I recognize that holds true for my children as well. However I can share when I trip over an insight that comes from being experienced at doing this sort of thing.
So I thought back to my older children’s going through this process, and about taking them and their friends out for pizza or to the movies, and recognized, I don’t do that much with the younger ones now that they’ve reached the same age. Impulsively, I told her to call three friends and I’d take them after school to the mall. She didn’t call them. She texted. I’m dating myself.
Friday was a snowy sleety rainy mess. Part of me hoped they’d cancel. They didn’t. Driving there, I took a photo of all of them together, asked them to set an alarm for five o’clock to meet me at the Shake Shack, and told them no matter what to stick together. They agreed, locked arms and skipped through Norstrom’s to the Urban Outfitters. There are times in parenting when you know you made the right call. Seeing them practically break into, “We’re off to see the Wizard…” qualified.
Yesterday, I wrote about vocations bringing community and joy. Sitting with them around a small table while they ate burgers and fries, the joy washed over me. Today, sitting with my family as we ate Linguini with clam sauce and celebrated their father’s birthday, I felt it again. Friday it tickled my heart as the students wanted to read the books for their book club. This is the reality we strive for, when people want to gather, when they discover something wonderful they did not know they would love. Moments of truth, service, beauty, kindness, fun, discovery, wonder and awe, these are glimpses of God’s goodness.
Hearing them fall over themselves giggling, singing along to their favorite songs on the radio, and discussing where they went and already planning the next time, it was a small thing –but life is made of all those small things, and if those small things are done with great love, that’s us responding to God’s invitation to live out our vocations. Will write more tomorrow, if only to keep discovering more of what it is God wants me to do.
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In