Friends,
It’s been so long since I have had the time and mental energy to write.
I miss it more than anything.
So much has changed over the summer: We added a foster child to our family. I went back to work…For two different schools! A friend and I began a special needs ministry at our church. Zoe began walking, had a first birthday, and started preschool (all within the span of a week and half). Our rhythm is different and our days are longer and busier, but it’s good, I think. The past two years, we were in a season of laying things down. We needed to refocus on what was important, and prepare ourselves for parenting. Now, we are in a season of saying, “yes” to what God has to offer us. Sometimes I miss the sweet Sabbath and rest that the last year has brought to us, but I’m thankful for the path God has put me on, and I’m excited to see the growth that will come with it. But saying, “yes” is risky. Saying, “yes” means I will mess up. For someone with an anxiety disorder, the thought of letting other people down is debilitating. Going back to work means someone besides my sweet husband will know when I fail.
A few weeks ago, I was recovering from a week where nothing was going my way. The games I had worked so hard to schedule were canceled. I had miscommunication with my spouse, and it ended up stressing everyone out. I forgot to put my jeans in the dryer, so I showed up to work soaking wet. You know, the usual.
When I got home from my job at the preschool, I changed into comfy clothes and stripped Zoe down to her birthday suit. We went outside so she could play with her new, fancy water-tables. I sat her down, turned on the hose, and collapsed on the bench to breath.
“What. A. Day.”
I picked a podcast to listen to while we played, and when I looked up, she wasn’t even near the water tables. She was playing with the hose, smiling and laughing harder than I had seen her in a long time. She was perfectly content with simplicity.
Zoe didn’t need a fancy toy or any special attention. She just needed me, the water hose, and my time. In that moment, I realized how much grace my relationship with my daughter has to offer. There are so many times that I don’t feel like I’m not enough for my kids. There’s so many times I feel like I fail them, and I’ve let them down. Instead of getting angry or upset with me, she leans in for a hug. She trusts me, and she forgives me again, and again (sounds like another relationship I am all too familiar with).
Going back to work has made me feel so torn between the different roles I am trying to fill. What if, in all of the chaos, I let my children down? If going back to work has taught me anything, it’s this: Children aren’t as complicated as we make them out to be. As a culture, we spend so much time and money trying to make things, “fun” and “exciting” and “new” for our kids. How refreshing is it to hear that our kids don’t need the excess? They need raw, real relationships–just like we do. They need to spend time with you, and they need to know that they can count on you when they fail. Quit stressing out about the toy when you know they’re going to have more fun with the box. Quit worrying about filling the water-table and just give them the water hose.
Love,
Sarah
A Little Bit Stressed
A Lot Loved
She Will Call Me Mom 