sunburnt wheatgrass

grumph

There are periodic moments when I know what my daughters need, or they tell me, and I simply don’t want to meet it. Not that I’m purposely trying to be mean or flippant in regards to my daughters and their emotional needs; it’s not the casual toddler’s attitude of “I don’t want to,” it’s the I-can’t feeling of the I-don’t-want-to. There’s no other way for me to explain it. Perhaps it’s in those times that I’m just too tired, that I feel all done, that I’ve met enough needs already.

It leaves me feeling so frustrated at myself. Why can’t I just put my hand on Ennyn’s stomach as she falls asleep at night? Why can’t I just give in and sit down right next to Enna as she’s waiting for sleep to come upon her? If I just succumbed to what I know they need and what they request in their cries and words and actions in those moments we’d all be less frustrated. I’d ultimately end up having more time  to myself since they’d fall asleep faster; our final moments of the day would be more peaceful, more tender. I know all this and yet so often I just can’t.

Last night was one of those moments, and in sheer overtired irritation Enna asked for Daddy. I headed downstairs feeling both relieved and deeply ruffled at myself and my inability to just be a mom in those few minutes. I turned my attention to tasks that I knew I could complete, that required no emotional or psychological pull, that would respond to my manipulation, my desire, and my control.

Parenting is such a call of humility and sacrifice, not just of some things, but of all things me. Never before have I been brought to my outer emotional and psychological and every other “als” limits, daily; never have my weakness in personality and character been exposed so fully, so transparently and in full view of others. I suppose if it wasn’t for this continual confession I would naively rely on all my own strength and knowledge, that I would think I and my efforts would be enough to love and gracefully raise my children. But I am not enough, nor will I ever be. Nor can I wait until those desperate moments to cry out to a God who is the ultimate Father. I need Jesus to be my strengths and be ever more powerful in those times when I simply can’t and don’t want to. I hope my daughters see my need for Jesus’ work in my life and that it encourages them to search for Him too.

The rewards of parenting and children are, by far, worth all the challenges and sacrifices along the way. I just need to remember that each day.

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