There is a verse in Psalms that says, “Children are an heritage of the Lord.”
I’d never deeply pondered it. I just thought it was a nice way of saying that God grows His family by blessing us with children.
But then I considered the significance of the word “heritage.” And I considered how the verse doesn’t say that my child is my heritage. My child, in fact, is part of the Lord’s heritage. Placed in my care for a time indefinite. To raise her to know that her heritage, her belonging is of and in the Lord.
At first I thought this was very intimidating. Like having to hold someone’s wedding rings and not only keep myself from losing them but to remember to bring them to the wedding on the right day. Only in this case, I am holding the life of a soul and need to make sure not to lose her and make sure she makes it into God’s kingdom when that roll is called up yonder, y’all.
But then I considered that if my daughter is the Lord’s own family, then He wants nothing more than to see her in Heaven. He will fight for her precious soul! He will strengthen me and give me everything I need if I only ask. I find such comfort and freedom in this! And yet, the more encouraged I am by this message, the more I so clearly see when I falter, when I am quick to forget that I am tending to the Lord’s heritage and serving another master…
As my daughter approaches the “Training Twos,” it is so clear to me how *everything* I do or fail to do influences her. I see how easy it is to be quick to anger STOP TRYING TO SIT ON MY HEAD; IT IS NOT AN OTTOMAN and slow to enforce discipline IF YOU STOP TANTRUMMING, THIS CUPCAKE CAN BE YOURS. This has been a physically challenging week with Baby Girl, and I almost cannot believe that I am not the one going to sleep at night in the crib with my pacifier and Curious George because I feel like such a big ween.
So I try to read things that will embolden me as a parent rather than the usual misery loves company. Here’s a sampling:
“In their important work parents must ask and receive divine aid. Even if the character, habits, and practices of parents have been cast in an inferior mold, if the lessons given them in childhood and youth have led to an unhappy development of character, they need not despair. The converting power of God can transform inherited and cultivated tendencies; for the religion of Jesus is uplifting. ‘Born again’ means a transformation, a new birth in Christ Jesus.Let us instruct our children in the teachings of the word. If you will call, the Lord will answer you. He will say, Here I am; what would you have Me do for you? Heaven is linked with earth that every soul may be enabled to fulfill His mission. The Lord loves these children. He wants them brought up with an understanding of their high calling.”
I brought her to one of my doctor’s appointments once upon a time. As my doctor was inching out the door, she said, “Good luck with that!” That being my hurricane of a toddler, juggling tongue depressors while checking her weight and eating Cheez-Its.
She doesn’t stop. She’s got a lot to say. She literally wakes up, pushing from horizontal to vertical and yells, “Morning, Mama!”
That’s some awesome sauce.
At the end of the day, I am so exhausted from answering the same questions in different ways, from giving horsey rides and picking up blocks, I can barely leave the couch and have now dubbed it the Kendra Stanton Lee Memorial Couch of Lazeabouts, so lazy do I become on yon davenport.
…a boy in snowman pajama pants, in the midst of cheffing up some pierogies in his dank Boston apartment, sort of stooped in front of me and told me he wanted to marry me, and with that I shook and he tied a string around my finger, in what was perhaps one of the worst proposals ever (it wasn’t his fault)(and no he didn’t plan it that way), here we are, five years later, bound by a promise, symbolized once upon a time by a flimsy green string just slightly thicker than a strand of a spider’s web, and now made so palpable each day by the scraps of hardened rotini noodles that we both walk over with bare feet on our way to go play “pockafull of poseys” with the creature that was born out of our love. Round and round we circle, holding hands and singing badly, preparing each time for “we all fall down,” and each time, pulling one another back up again, our smiles a little wider, the rush of blood to our faces making them a little rosier, the force of gravity still strong, still working to keep our feet planted firmly on the ground.
I praised her recognition and said, “Yes. M! M is for Madigan!”
“And Mommy!” she said.
In that moment, my heart swelled to the size of a small submarine and crushed all of my other organs rendering them inoperable.
Pay no attention to the fact that she was pointing to the letter “N” on the CAUTION portion of the wet floor sign.
***
I feel like I can finally vouch that my kid is “fun” and not have people humor me. Like, yeah, totally Kendra! All those months of her loafing like an overfilled jelly doughnut in the Boppy were a stinking riot! I really think she is hilarious and so bright, of course I do, it’s my job to think so, but it’s such a blessing that others can now enjoy the company of her bright-eyed wonderment, her pipsqueaky laughter, the confident marching and syncopating swing of those precious little pigtails.
I have heard this happens. You plop your kid in front of youtube while you are drying your hair and suddenly the obsession is born. She stares glazey-eyed at Elmo as he speaks in the third person about how much Elmo loves singing his ABC’s with India Arie. Your laptop becomes a craptop as your little monster-loving punk bangs the keyboard, “I want to watch Elmo!” and daily you wait. When will your punk realize the ABC’s are not a song invented by Elmo, but are actually the building blocks of reading? And can I please have my laptop back? I want to blog about how you’ve hijacked it.
Then one day, like yesterday for instance, your kid says, “ABCDEFG” and then you fill in the elusive “HIJ” and she continues and continues and continues and you wish Elmo were there to tell him how much Mommy loves Elmo, Mommy thinks the world of Elmo, Mommy thinks Elmo should keep on singing the ABC’s on youtube ad infinitum.
