Tuesday, August 27, 2013


I heard the baby start to fuss last night. Not crying, but just quiet baby grunts and sighs as she struggled to get settled back to sleep. At first I went to jump up to get her, but then I paused, thinking "I don't want her to think always think I'm going to rescue her."

But wait....

Don't I want her to think that?

It's true that I don't want my girls to be helpless. I don't want them to fold under pressure and underestimate their own skills. I don't want them to give up too soon when faced with challenges, or to discount their strength and smarts. 

But do I want them to think I will rescue them?


Every time. 

Flopsy-mopsy still needs a helping hand...pretty much all the time. 

It's not to say I'll never allow them to struggle, or that I'll swoop in the second I sense trouble. But I want them to know that no matter what- I am always there.

The more I get into this parenting thing, the more I'm struck with how God fathers me. He doesn't save me from all trials. He doesn't isolate me from heartbreak. But He also never leaves. When I get myself into a mess big enough to cause me to finally (finally...my stubborn self) call out for help- He's there. Absolutely. Every time. (How very "footprints in the sand" of him)

And that's the example I want to follow with my girls. (the role models don't get much better than God, right?) I want to watch them grow, support their decisions, give them room to run, but provide a safe place for them to fall when needed. I'm a firm believer that some lessons have to be learned the hard way (probably because I'm someone who still has to learn everything the hard way...) so I'll try to stay on the sidelines when they're muddling through those situations. But I want to be close by. Close enough to kiss the boo boos when they fall (while encouraging them to get back up) and close enough to listen when they're heartbroken. 

It's not about giving them a safety net.  Except maybe it is. And I'm ok with that.

I pray that they have the bravery to try to fly, the wisdom to know when to ask for help, and the trust to allow me to hover. Just a little. You know...until they're 65 or so...

1 comment :

  1. Still want to rescue you...till 65! Lovely post. xo Mommie