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In which she’s thinking about it

September 24, 2012

feeding blackberries to my girls

I was unprepared for the mirror of mothering, for the millions of ways that I face my own self in these tinies, for the ways that they mirror back to us our own temperaments, personalities, tricks, quirks, wonders. I was unprepared for seeing some of my own struggles play out in miniature, and I have to watch myself, be careful that I’m not assigning my own motives and baggage to the small souls working out what God has already worked in. And sometimes, when we are talking, and we are listening, and we are going through our real walking-around, yes-this-is-it life, I hear my husband say things to them that he himself needs to hear, and I hear myself give counsel that is probably for my own self.

The mirror came into focus again this weekend. She withdraws when she’s feeling Too Much, she hides away behind nonchalance, I think it’s an effort to protect herself from being hurt. And when her grandparents were getting ready to leave again, packing up their bags for the long flight back to the midwest, she began to withdraw, to hide, to duck from hugs, to reply sullenly. It crossed the line into rudeness, she was wounding others with her own wounds, and so we hid in her room for a while, together, talking it through. (I get this part of her, oh, yes, I do.)

We prayed, and I counseled, and encouraged her. I spoke about she could make it her job for the morning to make others happy, to make them feel loved, to send them home with full hearts of good memories.

She cried and said, But, Mum, I’m thinking about it! I’m thinking about how much I love them, everyone, all the time! I think it! I just don’t know how to do it right.

I ran my finger across her eyelashes, holding her tears for her, and said, gently, gently, Sweetheart, sometimes thinking about it isn’t quite enough for us, is it? And right now, you need to start loving them in a way that they will understand and see and feel. Love with your life, with your hands, with what you do, with your words, okay?

Okay.

And here’s the amazing thing. When you love someone, when you make it your business to give them joy? Darling, you find joy yourself.

Really?

Really. I promise. Want to go practice together now?

I leave for Haiti in two weeks. (Apparently time flies when you’re scared.)

 

 

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Anne, family, fearless, Haiti, parenting
  • pastordt

    Oh, the tears. That girl just crawls right in under my skin and stays a while. As does her mom (or mum :>) I cannot count the number of times I counseled my kids with words I needed to hear first. And it’s the same way with preaching – what a scary thought! But true. Nice way to step back in, kiddo. Really fine story-telling.

    • http://www.emergingmummy.com/ Sarah Bessey

      Thanks, Diana. It was a scary jump back in, for some reason, this time.

  • http://www.findingfruit.blogspot.com/ Jen

    “Sometimes thinking about it isn’t quite enough…” This line sinks deep. Thank you.

  • http://www.jamesprescott.co.uk/ James Prescott

    Wow. Beautiful post, with brilliant insight. So often the advice we give others and faults we find in others is the advice we need/faults we have. Thanks for reminding me – and pray Haiti is amazing.

    • http://www.emergingmummy.com/ Sarah Bessey

      Thanks, James – appreciate that!

  • http://www.fromtwotoone.com/ from two to one

    How sweet, Sarah. Your little-turned-big girl has your heart.

    • http://www.emergingmummy.com/ Sarah Bessey

      She really does…it’s a bit eerie sometimes. Joseph is so much like Brian, Evelynn is like other family members, but Anne seems more like a little clone every day.

  • http://everydayawe.com/ Stephanie Spencer

    Oh my yes. So often I learn more than I teach as I interact with my children. I am convinced that there is much deeper meaning to “faith like a child” than we usually discuss. As we see life through their lenses, as we learn and grow together, there is something deep that can happen. An engagement with the fullness if life that we often miss in the busyness of adulthood.

    Thank you for sharing this integration with your daughter. And for writing about it so beautifully.

    • http://www.emergingmummy.com/ Sarah Bessey

      I never thought of it that way, Stephanie. Thanks for that gift.

  • http://www.kelleynikondeha.com/ Kelley Nikondeha

    Yes, those times we sit together on the bed and talk it out. Often the effect is reciprocal, both of us needing the words, the moment to ponder, the space to sigh together. And then we try together – mostly so neither of us is alone in the practice (love how you named it). So with you….

    • http://www.emergingmummy.com/ Sarah Bessey

      Yes! Amen.

  • http://twitter.com/katiengibson Katie Noah Gibson

    Yes, indeed. So true and wise, Sarah.

  • Sarah Scott

    What a beautiful post… I love that you recognized the root of the problem and talked about it rather than punished the disrespect…Anne is not alone… I struggle with thinking about it and doing the opposite as well.

    • http://www.emergingmummy.com/ Sarah Bessey

      Oh, we definitely had some chats about the disrespect, too, over the week! but yes, the “why” behind the “what” is rarely scold-able.

  • Wendy

    I so love it when you share these moments with us friend. Such sweet tender moments. Thank you as always for your words and your heart. Love them both much. Blessings.

    • http://www.emergingmummy.com/ Sarah Bessey

      Thank you, Wendy – that means a lot. I see God here, and I need to write them out so I’m glad you’re here for it.

  • http://twitter.com/kimsullivan6 kim sullivan

    Great reminder to find the “Why?” and the “What is really going on here?” It can take some time and be tough to handle ( for me) in the moment, but it sure does help us all to grow.

    • http://www.emergingmummy.com/ Sarah Bessey

      I don’t do it every time, that’s for sure, but when I do remember there’s a “why” behind the “what”, I always come away changed.

  • Erica Ladd

    So many profound truths wrapped up in little details like running your finger across her eyelashes, holding her tears for her. Beautiful.

  • the Blah Blah Blahger

    What an awesome parenting opportunity. You are an example for those of us who come behind you. Love you!

  • http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000714631926 Erika Morrison

    I love that Anne-girl. And her mama.

  • Guest

    Such an important conversation with your daughter. I love when I get to have those kinds of talks with my 5 year old. And how much I learn from them myself.

  • jennadeckert

    Such an important conversation with your daughter. I love when I get to have those kinds of talks with my 5 year old and how much I learn from them myself.

  • Miles_ONeal

    Beautiful, intense, and crucial. Thank you for your transparency. Every parent needs to read this. No, everyone needs to!

  • http://www.laurarath.blogspot.com Laura Rath

    This is such a beautiful post Sarah, and one I can relate to. My daughter is just like me. I see things I wish she hadn’t learned from me, but also good things she’s learned by watching, without any words from me. She’s teaching me so much just by showing me the other side…I know the emotions that run through me, but now I can see what the other person sees. She is so like me.
    In Christ,
    Laura

  • http://beandkeepbeing.blogspot.com/ Jenny Barker

    Such a sweet, tender, teachable moment with your girl, Sarah. Thanks for letting us peek in and be blessed.

  • http://profiles.google.com/hannahjaneabbott Hannah Abbott

    beautiful! …so expectant for the fruit produced out of mothers who are genuinely, transparently living their life in communion with the Father.