Confidence in Parenting - What is It?

"I don't think I'm doing it right..."
-me (and every parent ever)

I have been a mom for exactly three months, three weeks, and two days, and already I have heard these words come from my mouth a dozen times. Since I have only been a mom for exactly three months, three weeks, and two days, I cannot consider myself an expert. However, I can't help but think there is something wrong about thinking those words so often.

This thought first struck me when I was visiting a friend who had an even newer baby than my own. As we talked about the ever-perplexing sleep schedule discussion, she said the exact thing that I had been saying to everyone. "I don't think I'm doing it right." 

Wow, so I'm not the only one, I thought.

This mommy was doing an awesome job for her baby boy; people told me Genesis was healthy and happy. Yet, this string of doubt came to our tongues as a sort of self endorsed disclaimer that came with our children. Here she is! Yes, she's cute, but I'm probably messing her up. Don't worry though, I am fully aware of this.

What a stressful way to live! Being a parent is hard enough without this added pressure (self-inflicted, I might add) to recognize our failings. Most of being a parent is learning anyway: learning what works, learning what doesn't work, learning with your child, learning without your child - nobody ever told me how different life is when your baby isn't even with you! Honestly, this can do no good for me or for Genesis, so the question remains: why do we feel so unqualified?

During my own desperate search for sleep during Genny's first couple months, I read the excerpt of Bringing up Bebe by Pamela Druckerman. I have a three-month old, so of course I haven't read the whole book. But I did find some encouragement. Please indulge in these pieces from the first chapter which I have selected:

We quickly discover that two restaurant meals a day, with a toddler, deserve to be

their own circle of hell. Bean is briefly interested in food: a piece of bread, or anything fried. But within a few minutes she starts spilling salt shakers and tearing apart sugar packets. Then she demands to be sprung from her high chair so she can dash around the restaurant and bolt dangerously toward the docks.

After a few more restaurant meals, I notice that the French families all around us don’t look like they’re in hell. Weirdly, they look like they’re on vacation. French children the same age as Bean are sitting

contentedly in their high chairs, waiting for their food, or eating fish and even vegetables. There’s no shrieking or whining. Everyone is having one course at a time. And there’s no debris around their tables.

...French parents are very concerned about their kids. They know about pedophiles, allergies, and choking hazards. They take reasonable precautions. But they aren’t panicked about their children’s well-being.

...I’m hardly the first to point out that middle-class America has a parenting problem. In hundreds of books and articles this problem has been painstakingly diagnosed, critiqued, and named: overparenting, hyperparenting, helicopter-parenting, and my personal favorite, the kindergarchy. One writer defines the problem as “simply paying more attention to the upbringing of children than can possibly be good for them.” Another, Judith Warner, calls it the “culture of total motherhood.” (In fact, she realized this was a problem after returning from France.) Nobody seems to like the relentless, unhappy pace of American parenting, least of all parents themselves.

After reading this, I considered my behavior in the past week. Any moment not spent holding Genny, changing Genny, feeding Genny, or rocking Genny was spent staring at the glowing screen of my iPhone, wearing out my thumb as I frantically scanned blog after blog, book after book, professional after professional to find an answer to WHY MY BABY WON'T SLEEP! I closely identified with the above described problem of simply worrying about parenting too much. Feelings of inadequacy brought up each time I read an article titled "10 Things You Should be Doing with Your Child", worry when she ate more at one feeding than the last, anxiety about talking to other moms about little things just in case it isn't "normal". 

It's true that it takes a village. We are not intended to do this alone. Because we have been placed in these roles, we are indeed to have confidence in our parenting, but not confidence in ourselves alone. This confidence is found in Christ and the promise He gave to us that He will always be with us and will never forsake us.

To all you self-doubting mamas, here is a passage for you:

Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Or do we need, like some people, letters of recommendation to you or from you?

 You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everyone. 

You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts. 

Such confidence we have through Christ before God. 

Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. H

e has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.

2 Corinthians 3:1-6

Being a mom is hard. No matter where you are, who you are, it's hard. But the Lord chose each one of us to be the mommies and daddies to our kiddos, and we cannot doubt His sovereignty. So next time you see that book on parenting, remember before you pick it up that you have confidence in Christ to be the best parent you can be.

Risk

"If there were a choice - and he suspected there was - a choice between, on the one hand, the heights and the depths and, on the other hand, some sort of safe, cautious middle way, he, for one, here and now chose the heights and the depths."
-A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken

Not long ago, my brother and I and some of our friends were walking on a bike trail. The trail runs along a creek, and some of the trees grow so that their branches hang over the water below. This particular time, the water level was not too high. We came upon a tree with a good sized branch arching over, and the temptation was too great. I climbed up on it and inched further and further out on the limb. My brother anxiously cautioned me all the way, and the further I went, the more worried he became that I would fall. Naturally, being older, I did not intend to listen to him, but his doubts shook my own confidence. Looking at the tree branch, if I went further I would have the victorious satisfaction of having climbed nearly over the entire creek. Of course, there was also the possibility that my brother's fears would be realized, and I would fall to an embarrassing and painful injury. There was risk, and I had to weigh the possible gain with the possible consequences.

Risk. My mother, famous for her proverbs, always told us, "If you doubt, don't." That seems simple enough. What she failed to explain to us, however, is that so much of life is uncertain. Doubt does not only occur when I encounter a crossroads. Sometimes it is not a one-or-the-other decision, but a vague sense of doubt which I cannot exactly define.

Living life trying to do the right thing sometimes ends up feeling like a track runner going around and around in a circle without any breaks. After awhile, the runner realizes that he has broken his own record countless times. What purpose is there to keep going? The track doesn't seem to lead anywhere per se. This is a life without risk.

And it is like writing a book. I don't know if you have ever tried to sit down and put together a masterpiece, but the more into a plot you go (or at least it is this way for me), the more complicated it becomes. There are infinite possibilities, but you feel there is only one way for you to make this perfect. One way in which it all goes together. This is a life with too much risk to choose from.

These two things, a sense of monotony and of finding the one right way to behave, drive me to fear risk. Risk is the variable you never calculate. Risk is the possibility that you could fail or you could win the lottery. Most of the time, I avoid risk. It seems an unnecessary gamble to trifle with. But surprisingly, I have found that avoiding risk does not reduce doubt. In fact, many instances show the opposite to be true, that doubt increases as risk decreases.

Black and white may exist in pictures or in old movies or on checkerboards, but rarely is it evident in making decisions. Or maybe it is, but we are too distracted by the colors of our world to realize it. I am always so concerned with making the right decision, that when a decision is made, I often have a lingering sense of doubt. Did I make the right decision? Should I have chosen black this time, or was white the better choice? I fail to realize that a lot of the time, good comes with bad. I will not always make the right decision, but that does not mean that I should be wary of every choice I do make. The world will keep on turning if I blow it, and walking on eggshells and avoiding risks will not guarantee a "safe" life. What it will guarantee is a lot of emotional taxation and monotonous living. Yes, a decision can have disastrous results because a risk, prudent or imprudent, was taken, but the ultimate outcome, however, is out of our control.

Genesis tells the well-known story of Joseph's brothers selling him to merchants (an obvious lapse in judgement on their part) and of his eventual and amazing rise to power in a strange land that he had entered as a piece of property. Years after Joseph reveals his true identity to his brothers, they are still haunted by the decision they had made against him. After their father's death, the brothers feared Joseph's wrath which they felt they justly deserved. I am always staggered Joseph's humble and blunt response to them: "Don't be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives." How incredible for Joseph to be drawn to a place where he could offer up such a horrible decision and look upon it with thankfulness and gladness.

Joseph did not fear making a wrong decision because he was confident that the Lord would use it all for His purpose. In Dante's Inferno, he rightly says, "A man must stand in fear of just those things that truly have the power to do us harm, of nothing else, for nothing else is fearsome." Nothing else is fearsome but the things that have the power to do us harm. How true and yet how often we forget? I forget that there is only a force of darkness unable to be overcome that must be feared, and that darkness does not exist because it has already been defeated. Isaiah 43:1 says "But now, this is what the Lord says - he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel; 'Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.'"

If there is risk, if it is thought through carefully and not taken by whimsical or carnal desires, then I believe it is right to be taken. For nothing in life is certain but the love of God, and nothing need be feared when that law is at work for all eternity.

The Waiting Game

Do you ever feel like you’re stuck in a rut? Like if only things were a certain way, everything would be better? There is something so depressing about being just out of reach of something. 

In our minds, we can imagine how things would be in our idealistic reality – even if we don’t expect perfection for our lives, even if we account for some uncomfortable or even difficult things, it’s still enough to drive us crazy when we can’t have what we want.

Today I was sulking about something and whining to myself that I am such a martyr for enduring this torture of not getting what I want. After all, I am a pretty good person.

That’s when I started laughing at myself.

A particular story from the Bible jumped into my head – one with Abraham and his son, Isaac. Abraham had direct instructions from the Lord that were clear-cut and without much of an explanation. “Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about.” Can you imagine anything more horrifying than sacrificing your beloved child?? I can’t begin to comprehend the pain and conflict that Abraham must have gone through. He loved Isaac more than his own life. Isaac was the promised son that he had waited decades to hold in his arms, and now God required his life as an offering.

Do you think Abraham wanted to kill his son? Of course he didn’t! But he trusted that God knew what He was doing when He asked such a momentous task. Although Abraham probably felt a sick twist in his gut as he climbed that mountain, he kept on going, not even letting on to Isaac as to the true purpose of their journey.

Aaaaand then there’s me. My problems seem so trivial in comparison, yet I do not have the faith to trust that the Lord has planned my life out for my own good! Perhaps things are not going the way I would like for them to, but I don’t have the big picture in front of me. 

Rather than accept this period as a time for waiting, my impulsive, do-it-yourself nature wants to jump in there and “get ‘er done”. In fact, that’s exactly how Abraham acted before Isaac was born! Although the Lord had said he would have a son, he went and married a handmaiden in addition to the childless wife he already had. The result was two half brothers who would be at odds for generations to come.

I think he learned a valuable lesson from that experience that I can take from as well.

Right now, I may not see what’s around the corner for me. That may get under my skin. It may make me want to scream to the heavens, but that is the way it should be. Us trusting that He will take care of us always. God doesn’t let us have the things we want simply because we act a certain way or because we do things in such a way that we consider ourselves “good people”. In actuality, there is no such person.

There is a time for everything. A time to trust, a time to hope, and a time to wait.

Faith, Trust, and Holding Things Up

What are the things we believe in? Not the spiritual entities or the religious rules exactly, but the simple, everyday objects and concepts upon which we thoroughly rely. Perhaps sometimes we don’t do it consciously, but we put our lives into these inanimate objects without so much as a questioning glance. Things like cars, roofs, mankind’s ability to stop at red lights, the purity of our drinking water, or simply the chairs we sit in. We have complete and utter faith in the things we can see, touch, feel with our hands. Why then is it so difficult to put this very basic trust into the hands of the One who gave us our very breath?

I think we are obsessed with the things we see. So much so, that whenever something is not in front of our eyes, we have a hard time believing that it is actually there. If you have ever heard the phrase, “I’d have to see it to believe it,” or, “Seeing is believing,” it is evident that the majority of society thinks along these lines. After all, you are the best judge…right?

See, when we get to a place where we have set ourselves up on so high a pedestal that we consider ourselves the ultimate authority (which is laughable compared to reality), we have to move God from that position first. Like the subconscious act of placing faith in a folding chair, we nudge God over and try to hold up the roofs in our lives on our own. The problem is, when God sees our pathetic struggle for control and decides to let us have a taste of our own medicine, things immediately begin to shake. When God stops being the support beams, the whole structure comes crashing down, and we are left in the midst of the broken rubble that was the life we had tried to create ourselves.

That and the realization that our strength alone is not strong enough.

We’ve all been there. Like a disobedient child who has just brought the whole tray down on top of her head, we sit in a heap on the floor, crying because of our brokenness and because the consequences hurt.

But this is the best part.

This is when Daddy comes into the room. At first we feel a little scared because…well, it’s Daddy! He’s the boss, the judge, the maker-or-breaker of our days. He has the authority to inflict punishment and the ability to extend forgiveness.

He looks around at what we have done, seeing the mess, seeing our tears, but choosing not to pay them any heed because He only truly sees one thing. Our hearts and everything Jesus came to save, everything He created to be perfect and beautiful. Everything He loves about us.

That’s when Daddy picks us up, dusts us off, and after giving us a big hug, reminds us to listen to His words. “Now then, my children,” He says, “listen to Me; blessed are those who keep My ways. Listen to My instruction and be wise; do not ignore it. I know that you aren’t perfect, though you always try to be, and that you will fail every time you attempt to go off alone. But I do not look at these things, the things that man looks at. Instead, I look at your heart, which is Mine and which I dearly love. I paid the highest price imaginable for it, so I want you to take care of it. Trust me. I know what My plans are for you, and they are all for your own good.”

Drop whatever you’re doing right now. Just do it.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and give it all to Jesus. Forget all the clichés, ignore what others would say or think, just stop trying to hold everything together because you can’t do it. You were not meant to carry things all on your own. Talk to Him, and give Him the reins. Then you will truly discover (or rediscover) the joy that is life. J

What to Do...

"How much do we have to show the people we love?"
-Allie Condie (Crossed)

The world turns out of our hands. Essentially, there is nothing we can do to stop that. Circumstances occur out of our realm of influence, and yet we are expected to carry on with this thing call life.

So what can we do?

Many things in my world have begun to change lately. Realities that have remained constant throughout my eighteen years thus far are shaking and crumbling before me. Most of these changes are merely page-turners to another chapter in my life, a chapter that I’ve always known would inevitably come.

Regardless, it is hard to deal with things that I cannot control, and as a result I have been overly moody and emotional. This fact has bled over into every aspect of my life.

One struggle I have been wrestling with (emotionally and physically) has been with friends. My tendency to want to fix everything (and everyone) is oftentimes met with resistance…after all, I can’t do it. It is out of my hands. There is only one person I can change, and that is myself, but more often than not I forget that and instead focus my energy on wanting to heal the entire world. I overlook the fact that my own heart is in dire need of healing and that I need a Savior to heal me 24/7.

Last night I was talking with a friend, and we arrived at a single, unmoving question that daunted us both: what do we do now? Shockingly enough, I was at a loss for words. No ingenious solution came to mind. No divine revelation passed through my brain. For anyone who knows me well, that is not a common occurrence. Instead, I felt completely broken and useless. “I don’t know,” I said.

Almost desperately, I picked up my Bible, but then I simply stared at it in my hands. Hundreds of pages of pure wisdom and insight…where did I start looking when I had no idea what answer I was looking for? A silent prayer kept running through my head: “What do I do, God? What do I do?”

Colossians was the next book for me to tackle on my schedule that I’ve been trying to stick with for the past three years. From chapter one, a few verses stuck out to me. “…we have not stopped praying for you and asking God to fill you with the knowledge of His will through all spiritual wisdom and understanding.” My heart kind of breathed a longing sigh when I read that. Yes, that’s what I want. Maybe I can’t fix the world or foretell the future, but I can pray! The next verses explained that, “we pray this in order that you may life a life worthy of the Lord and may please Him in every way…” This is our true purpose, “to glorify God and enjoy Him forever” (a little catechism there), and when we are pleasing Him, we feel the exhilaration of carrying out the job that was charged us! This entails:

• “bearing fruit in every good work” –  being productive and seeing the results of your good work.

• “growing in the knowledge of God” – becoming wiser and more capable of handling situations set before us

• “being strengthened with all power according to His glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience” – who doesn’t want that, right??

• “and joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light.”

When searching for an unknown answer with an even vaguer question, I couldn’t imagine a more appropriate or inspiring response. The Creator of all things chose you and me to be a part of this incredible thing! It’s a lot to wrap your head around. He “qualified” us, meaning we couldn’t have done it on our own. It’s by His love and mercy that we can take a confusing, messed up world full of uncertainties and doubts and make it a place of beauty.

With all the graduations going on lately and so many What-do-I-do-nows clouding our judgment, Colossians 1:9-12 gives the reassurance that through prayer, everything will be alright. We have a loving Father; we have the promise of more than we can imagine. What do we do now? There is nothing we can’t do now!