Yesterday I overheard a snippet of a loud and fast-moving conversation as a group of young buggy-pushing mums passed me in the subway: "...and he said, 'I don't love you anymore,' and I was like..."
And that was all I heard. It might not have been about her. It might have been reported speech from another conversation with a party not present. But it made me sad, because someone somewhere is no longer loved.
Friday, 4 March 2011
Personally responsible?
On Tuesday we had a family trip to the dentist. Big Grin (3) was as good as gold and opened her mouth and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the experience. Little Feet (nearly 5) had already decided that morning she wasn't going to cooperate and flatly refused to open her mouth. In her defence, she is slightly man-phobic, and being tactile isn't her thing, so it wasn't going to go well anyway. The Mister and I were both lauded for our own teeth-brushing, and informed that we were in the dentist's top 2%, and according to him, he's picky. He isn't too worried about not being able to see Little Feet's teeth as hopefully we'll be taking care of her teeth as well as our own. When we got home I said to The Mister that I would feel personally responsible if either of the girls ever got tooth decay. Somewhere along the line I wouldn't've been doing my job properly.
That got me thinking. Would I feel the same if they got heart disease from leading a sedentry lifestyle? Or dropped litter? Or robbed a bank? Or were mean to other kids at school? Or turned their backs on God? How far am I responsible for the choices they make in their lives? This parenting lark is pretty heavy. We pray; we follow the Bible's guidance; we try to impart the good stuff, to live the good stuff; we teach them to make good choices; but ultimately we leave them in God's hands.
That got me thinking. Would I feel the same if they got heart disease from leading a sedentry lifestyle? Or dropped litter? Or robbed a bank? Or were mean to other kids at school? Or turned their backs on God? How far am I responsible for the choices they make in their lives? This parenting lark is pretty heavy. We pray; we follow the Bible's guidance; we try to impart the good stuff, to live the good stuff; we teach them to make good choices; but ultimately we leave them in God's hands.
Saturday, 12 February 2011
Sanctifying the Ordinary
"And what do you do?"
"I'm a wife and a mum."
But that isn't the full story! I'm a child of God, loved and redeemed, and while that may not be enough for the 2011 UK mindset, it is for me. As long as I don't listen to the seeds of doubt planted in my mind. A couple of weeks ago I was doing the dangerous thing of navel-gazing and wondering what I'd achieved in my life, and what I should be doing with my life, especially when our youngest goes to school. It wasn't entirely misguided: I do want to make sure I'm doing the things God wants me to do. Then He spoke to me. "Sanctify the ordinary." Of course! How could I forget? I have heard it all before - that as I'm doing the laundry or washing dishes or kissing a bumped knee I should do it all for the glory of God, because it really matters to God. But sanctifying it - setting it apart, making it holy, special, different - seems to bring it on to another level. It's not just doing the chores without grumbling so God will be pleased; it's making it count eternally.
Yesterday we were so blessed to have a bride leave for her wedding from our house, using our home to get dressed in. What can be more ordinary than two people coming together and getting married? It happens all the time. It's certainly not extraordinary. And yet it is so special, and I was honoured to participate in sanctifying the ordinary simply by opening up the home God has given us, and by hosting the bride's father in our spare room too. Such a small thing and such a big thing.
"I'm a wife and a mum."
But that isn't the full story! I'm a child of God, loved and redeemed, and while that may not be enough for the 2011 UK mindset, it is for me. As long as I don't listen to the seeds of doubt planted in my mind. A couple of weeks ago I was doing the dangerous thing of navel-gazing and wondering what I'd achieved in my life, and what I should be doing with my life, especially when our youngest goes to school. It wasn't entirely misguided: I do want to make sure I'm doing the things God wants me to do. Then He spoke to me. "Sanctify the ordinary." Of course! How could I forget? I have heard it all before - that as I'm doing the laundry or washing dishes or kissing a bumped knee I should do it all for the glory of God, because it really matters to God. But sanctifying it - setting it apart, making it holy, special, different - seems to bring it on to another level. It's not just doing the chores without grumbling so God will be pleased; it's making it count eternally.
Yesterday we were so blessed to have a bride leave for her wedding from our house, using our home to get dressed in. What can be more ordinary than two people coming together and getting married? It happens all the time. It's certainly not extraordinary. And yet it is so special, and I was honoured to participate in sanctifying the ordinary simply by opening up the home God has given us, and by hosting the bride's father in our spare room too. Such a small thing and such a big thing.
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