Kristen Anne Glover

Five in Tow

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Sacrifice {Day 4}

Thank you for joining us! You can find Day 1 here.

When I was young, my mother read stories.  She read stories at naptime and stories at bedtime and stories any time she didn’t know what else to do.  She filled hours and hours of rainy days with books.  Together, we looked in the windows of a little house in the middle of big woods, chased a very fat rabbit through an English garden, and hoped to anything that a spider could find a way to save a pig.

Sometimes she read missionary biographies, and our living room became the densest of jungles.  We held our breath through cannibal country and the dangerous back-allies of the Orient.  We watched the Moravian missionaries seal their belongings into caskets and send them off to Africa, where they would surely die.

It was fabulously romantic and terribly heroic to a seven-year-old with an overactive imagination and a particular aptitude for martyrdom.  I could take up a cross like that and carry it to glory.

But it is God who orders the sacrifice, and it is God who cuts the cross.  To my surprise, I was not made for being a martyr, but a mother.

The sacrifices of motherhood are not glorious like I desired.  They rarely draw the attention of the crowd.  Motherhood carries the simple, ordinary cross of ordinary days.  It is the cross of daily self-denial in the mundane circumstances when no one is watching.

It is not particularly notable, and hardly ever acknowledged.  It is lonely and monotonous and altogether mindless, sometimes.

And that’s the rub.  It is all so ordinary.  The dailyness of this cross cuts against my flesh.  I have other gifts to offer, other talents to showcase, but here I am, doing nothing more than making lunches and wiping noses day after day after day.  That’s hardly the stuff that changes the world, I think.

I begin to feel a bit like Cain, who found the sacrifices of God to be unbearable, not because he could not give them, but because he could not give what he wanted.  He was a man with a garden, but the sacrifice was meat.  That kind of sacrifice didn’t make him look good at all.  It didn’t showcase his natural talents or abilities.  It was the standard one-size-fits all model, and he wanted a custom fit.

Dissatisfaction settles in where pride has left an open door.  It settled in to Cain, and human blood was spilled onto trembling earth.  Some days, it settles in to me, and I begin to feel the hardship of my position under a cross that isn’t glorious at all.  Pride tells me I am losing my life—my self—for nothing.

That is a lie that keeps me crippled under the weight of a burden that is supposed to be easy.  It is a lie that steals the joy of motherhood and the joy of giving to God the very thing He has asked of me.

In those moments, when I am feeling so small, so devoid of anything good to give to God, I must embrace the words of truth.  There is no greater love than this, than to lay down my life for another.   To give my life for my children is the most profound and powerful way I can serve Him.   It is the simplest and most irrefutable way I can proclaim Him.  Motherhood is the gospel in action.

When I embrace the dailyness of motherhood, I am embracing the daily giving of one life for another.  It is a picture of the gospel that all the world longs to see.  It is a sacrifice that touches the hearts of my children and secures a godly remnant for a future generation.  And that is just the thing that can change the world.

If my seven-year-old self could see me now, she might be disappointed, at first.  But the beauty of the cross is this: when I give God the sacrifices He desires in the way He requires, I find joy.  It is awfully daily, awfully ordinary, and far more glorious than anything I could have imagined.

 

Please join us tomorrow for Day 5: Forgiveness

For further thought

1)      Read Psalm 51:17.  What are the sacrifices God requires of you?

2)      Micah 6:8 is a well-known passage.  Think about it in light of motherhood.  How can you please God in your daily calling?

3)     Do you sometimes feel like Cain?  What are the sacrifices you would like to bring to God?  Consider this in against the writing of the apostle Paul, who had reason to boast about his sacrifices for God.  What brought Paul the greatest joy in serving God (see Philippians 3:7-11).  How does Paul’s perspective change the way you view the mundane aspects of parenting?

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Priority {Day 3}

Just joining us? You will find Day 1 of the series here.

Last year, a man with a couple of kids moved in with the woman in the green house up the street.  The kids, who introduced themselves as Chance and Hailey, had been living with their dad and a couple of older half-brothers until their dad met Sandy.  They told us their dad was going to marry her, and they started calling her mom.  They had never had a mom before so they tossed the word around their lips like something sacred.

But we could hear the yelling down the street.  We saw Chance and Hailey standing on the sidewalk while words that should never be spoken were shouted into the air.  They sneaked into our yard and hung around the apple tree and asked us what we were having for lunch.  Sometimes, when I asked if they had already eaten at their house, Chance would shrug and say, “We’re not allowed to go home ‘cause Mom—our mom—is cleanin’.”

One day, Hailey came running up to me, tears streaming down her face.  She had a bright red spot on her knee.  “I need a Band-aid!” she wailed.  It wasn’t a terrible scrape, for all her carrying on, but it was bleeding, and the blood was getting all over her clothes.

“I can get you a Band-aid,” I said, “but I think it’s better if you go home so you can get cleaned up.”

“I already went home!” Hailey bawled.  “My mom told me I couldn’t come in because I’d get blood on the carpet!”

I stared in disbelief at the green house up the street.  I had already known the children were not a priority, but to hear it like that hurt.  I hurt for the children, but also hurt for Sandy.  I guess I understood, a little.  I wished I didn’t, but my heart is deep and full of shadows and I know something of selfishness.

Like her, I have traded my joy for my children for the tyranny of the moment.  I have been angry when muddy feet tramped all over my freshly-mopped floor.  I have been too busy making dinner to be bothered with one more scraped knee.  I have gotten my children dressed for church while yelling at them because we’re late.

I know the cost of mixed-up priorities, and it weighs on my heart.  I want more for my children than that.  I want more for me than that.

But it is so easy, when my toes are in the dirt and my hands busy about the stuff of earth, to forget that this is not my kingdom.  It is easy to forget that almost everything I do here doesn’t really matter at all, at least, not the way I think it does.  When I am dead and gone my kids will not care if the living room was tidy or not, nor will they remember most of the things that I did.  What they will remember is if they were loved.

Love must always be my priority.  It is the thing that outlasts all my doings.  It is not the capstone on my list of achievements; it is the cornerstone.  If I do not have love, nothing I do matters, and I am no better than the woman in the green house up the street who worries more about her carpet than the heart of her child.

Love must permeate everything I do in my home, and my priority must be this: to wake up every day with the intention to live out my faith through love in front of my children.

This does not mean that the to-do list doesn’t get done.  It means that love drives the to-do list.  Love determines what is the best thing to be done.  Love keeps my eyes on eternity and asks the hard questions about what my children really need.

It is the simplest and hardest thing.  Love can’t fit into a box and be checked off.  It can’t be measured the way stacks of folded laundry can.  This priority requires me to seek wisdom, to understand the unique needs of my children, and to give up a false perfectionism.

Some moments, the best way to love my children might be doing the laundry.  Other times, it might mean listening, correcting destructive behaviors, giving them time to recharge, or grabbing them in a great big hug.

Always, it means pressing in to the Author of Love because I cannot give what I do not have.  I must hold fast to the truth that God’s plan for me is better than any plan or purpose I have for myself.  The children He has entrusted to me are a gift, not a duty, and I will have no greater honor in this life than if my children can say they knew the love of God because of how I loved them.  That is more important than an immaculate kitchen or being on time for soccer practice because that is the stuff of eternity.

And nothing impacts eternity more than love.

Love is the stuff of eternity

For further thought

1) 1 Corinthians 13 is a famous chapter on love.  What does it have to say about works done without love?

2) If you are like me, reading through the attributes of love can be like reading through a list of failures.  I obviously, continuously, and outrageously mess up love.   Which aspect of love is hardest for you?

3) Read 1 John 4:7-11.  What is the source of all love?  What are your actions toward your children saying about what you believe about God?

4) My prayer for you today comes from Philippians 1:9-11: “I pray that your love may abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve the things that are excellent, in order to be sincere and blameless until the day of Christ; having been filled with the fruit of righteousness which comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.”

Join us on Monday for Day 4: Sacrifice.

 

 

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Perspective {Day 2}

New to the series? Find Day 1 here.

These are the peanut butter and jam-filled days, when young children fill your home and occupy your time.  There are sticky fingers and sticky floors and sticky jam in your hair.  But there are also sandwiches that taste like warm summer berries and sunshine, and you can spread out your blanket and stay awhile, if you want.

It’s all a matter of perspective.

Either you can get bogged down in the sticky mess of smeared jam or you can taste the sweetness of the berries.  It’s just that simple.  Perspective is the way you view your circumstances, and perspective has a lot to do with whether you enjoy your children—or not.

Some days, when my eyes are on my to-do list and my mind is filled with thoughts of how much happier I’d be if my circumstances changed, the inconveniences of motherhood get to me.  I think about my idealized, glossy-magazine view of motherhood (which has never materialized), and I wonder if I have been cheated, somehow.  Surely, it has to be better than this.

On those selfish, bitter days, I do not enjoy my children.  It’s hard to enjoy them when secretly, in the depths of my heart, I view the circumstances of motherhood as an obstacle to More Important Stuff.  The toddler’s tantrums keep me from getting More Important Stuff done.  The Princess who unpacks her entire dresser looking for the tutu that was in the wash destroys the More Important Stuff I’ve already done.  The twins’ fighting over a toy prevents me from carrying on a phone conversation with the More Important Person and the endlessly misplaced shoes keep me from getting to More Important Places on time.

From this perspective, it seems the whole of motherhood is an obstacle to my happiness: one big, sticky, jam-filled obstacle.

But other days, I remember that my goal in life is not to be happy.  Or organized.  Or on time.  It is to be holy.  To that end, God has orchestrated every circumstance of every day for my own good, to draw me nearer to Himself and to change me into His likeness.  Every circumstance has my refinement in mind, even motherhood.  Especially motherhood.

Because it is in motherhood that I have the opportunity not only to be like Christ, but to demonstrate Christ to my children.  Day after day, under this roof with these children, I have the opportunity to be Jesus passing out the leftovers, Jesus holding babies and breaking up arguments, Jesus washing stinky feet, Jesus who is never too busy to be touched, never too busy to be needed.  I even have the opportunity to be Jesus, filled with power and overcoming this world of spilled milk and spaghetti stains, if I let him.

From this perspective, there are no obstacles.  There is nothing mundane, nothing insignificant, nothing lost.  There is nothing beneath me than was farther beneath Christ.  If I stoop at all, it is to stoop to be where He is, down in the dirt struggling with the dailyness of the cross.  It changes how I look at my circumstances.  It changes me.

When I understand that I can show Christ more by wiping sticky jam off sticky faces than I ever could by living a glossy mothering magazine life, I find contentment.   I find joy, and I am able to enjoy my children.  They are not inconveniences or obstacles to my happiness.  They are a daily opportunity for   me to clothe the Word of God in flesh—my flesh.  They are a daily opportunity for me to rise above my circumstances and live out in real actions—my actions—what love really is.

It’s all a matter of perspective.

Hello, Mom!  My name is Opportunity.

 

For further thought

1)      How does the humility of Christ transform your view of your circumstances?  Read Philippians 2:1-16.

2)      Can God be more glorified in the humble acts of motherhood than in the perfectionism we seek?  Consider 2 Corinthians 4:5-18 as it applies to the ministry of motherhood.  How would your home change if you considered every circumstance of every day as an opportunity to clothe the truth of God in your flesh?

3)      As you go about your day today, may you be strengthened by this prayer of the apostle Paul, which is also my prayer for you: “[May] you  be filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you will walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, to please Him in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God; strengthened with all power, according to His glorious might, for the attaining of all steadfastness and patience; joyously giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified us to share in the inheritance of the saints in Light.” –Colossians 1:9b-12

 

Please join us tomorrow for Day 3: Priorities.