Disappointment Redeemed

I'm so disappointed in you.

A knife pierced my 12 year old heart.  My mother had the power to reduce my foolishness with only that phrase. With only a disproving look and those quietly spoken words, I was reduced to shame.  Couldn't she have just spanked me and gotten it over with? A quick kapow to the bum would have been less painful than the "disappointment speech".

As a parent to a young adult, I too, know what it is to be disappointed in my child's decisions.  I understand how it hurts to hear of his wayward choices that he calls fun.  I know the burden of carrying my child's disappointing choices so close to my heart they almost become my own.

Don't misunderstand me.  My son is A-mazing.  He defends my, and your, freedom on a daily basis.  He sees the positive in his adventures in Afghanistan.  He can crack jokes about the amount of sand found in every crack and crevice of his body.  He can laugh and make light of his accomplishments in the military.  He is funny, energetic, a dreamer, a sweet big brother.

He's also 23.  He is a Christian.  A young Christian.  His spiritual growth has been slow since the age of 16.  He has a servant's heart but doesn't quite know whom he is serving.  Military advancement?  Education? Business owner?  Endless opportunities.

The last few times he had been home for R and R, I was disappointed.  I had expected to see a man.  And I did.  I saw a strong, confident, able-bodied man.  But not necessarily a man of God.  My gentle urgings and then later, bold conversations, did nothing to produce the behavior I thought I should be seeing.  You see, I had an image of who I thought my child should be.  The actuality didn't match up.  Nope, not at all.

I was frustrated and in all honesty, became a little distant in my disappointment.  Instead of continuing to pray on his behalf I refused to talk to God about the situation.  Rather than gently reproach him I began to dread our conversations.  I withheld much from a son who needed and asked for little.

Can you the parallel? 

I am a sad and sickly sinner.  I continuously disappoint my Father with my foolish choices and unwise decisions.  His heart aches over my disregard of Him.  He is angered by my unrepentant sin.  He knows the beautiful creation He has made me to be and I fall short.  On a minute by minute basis, I fall short.

But oh! What a gracious and loving Father I have.  For he never denies me His presence.  He never gives me the treatment I deserve.  He never withholds what I need.  He is an A-mazing God full of mercy, forgiveness, love, joy.  Did I mention mercy?  Lots of mercy and grace for all that I am not.  He welcomes me home every time I turn to Him.  He embraces me even when I disappoint Him.  My God loves me beyond where I've been.

And my son and I?  God has graciously given me a glimpse of my sin.  And He has graciously given me a glimpse of the man he is creating in my son.  And He has graciously given me a new attitude, ability, and desire to love my boy right now.  Right where he is today with a measure of mercy, love, and grace that can only come from Him.

His grace flows abundantly.

Niki

Maybe you need to read this…

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” –Matthew 11:28-30

I love that scripture.  I love that Jesus is constantly reaching out, across the ages, to comfort me where I sit in my jammies, typing away on my laptop and trying to make sense of my days.

Perhaps I can’t think of anything uplifting to talk about.  I mean, I could.  That is to say – I could conjure up a whole load of malarkey about this or that.  OR I could choose to see the blessings and write about those.  Choose to be thankful and list those many things off.  And I am.  Thankful and blessed.  Truly, I am.

But I’m also cloudy.  And writing it here, it’s not for you.  Sure, you may read it and take it or leave it.  But me?  I’m writing it down to remember.  To remember it even a couple years from now.  Because, actually – it helps. 

See, I kept wracking my brain about what to “talk” about and over-thinking what uplifting thing I could share with you.  And then I realized – maybe that’s not what you need to read anymore than I have it in me to write.  Maybe what you need to read is that life can be so, so difficult at times.  And that, despite the many blessings we have – still, our human frailty shows up in unexpected ways and knocks the wind out of us.

Maybe you need to hear that some parenting days are like butter on toast…warm and gooey and lovely and comforting.  And others, are so hard they make you weep.  Some days are the kind that buckle your knees and make you wonder what you think you’re doing raising little people.

Maybe you need to read that someone, another mother much like yourself, sits in her own space and wonders how this even happened.  These mini-me sponges who can be so amazing and so unbearable in the same moment.  That there is another mother out there who, maybe like you, doesn’t always enjoy it.  Doesn’t always see it as “the best thing that ever happened” to her. 

And I don’t care if that makes me unpopular with like, 2 of you.  Because I happen to know from experience that just about EVERY MOTHER has felt at one time or another that this parenting thing?  Not all that it’s cracked up to be.  Also?  The pressure to be the perfect mother?  Unbelievably difficult to shoulder. 

Maybe you needed to be reassured that every day really is like “Groundhog Day”.  No, it’s not your imagination and yes, it really does feel like it will never end.  It really does seem like some days they are out to get you AND your goat.  It really is the same thing over. and over. and over. and over.  And yes, you will be this tired for many years.

Maybe you just needed to know that feeling overwhelmed, making mistakes, and feeling like your messing up your children for life is part of a bigger picture – called motherhood.  And it’s completely normal to feel that way. 

Maybe it helps to think that while you sit in your kitchen, your living room…even your bathroom…trying to get your head clear and imagine a time when you might be able to put cohesive thoughts and sentences together again in adult company, another mother – actually thousands of mothers – are doing the same thing at the exact same moment.  Sharing your burden, without even realizing it.  Sharing your distress.  Understanding where you are and how you are feeling.

Maybe you need to hear again and again that “this too shall pass”.  That there will be a day…not so far off…quite quickly in the grand scheme of life…when they will be grown and you will wonder where the time went.  You will wonder why it went so fast.  You will miss their little feet and their small voices.  You might regret how fast they went and grew up and left you for the big world.  You might cry.  You might feel cloudy again. 

And maybe you just needed to hear all of that so you can put it all back into perspective again.  So you can get up tomorrow morning and do it again.  And the next day.  And you can keep on keeping on.  So that you can know you’re not alone. 

Not now and not ever.  And not through any single stage of this thing we call motherhood.

Maybe you needed to be reminded that His yoke is easy and His burden is light.  That He will give you rest.  That He is gentle.  And loving.  And humble.  And He loves you – exactly where you are.  Spit-up stains, sleeplessness, frayed nerves and all. 

Maybe you needed to read that today.

Maybe I did too.

Christie Bucher

*Christie writes regularly and you can visit her blog at Bushel & A Peck