I'm going to start with the things they don't do-they don't bully other kids, they don't always go to Sunday school, they don't always get good grades, they don't always get to school on time, they don't want to do what they are told, they don't always dress "appropriately", they don't do their chores without being yelled at, they don't always clear their dinner dishes, they don't always say please and thank you, they don't always flush the toliet, they don't always love each other, they don't always watch their language and they don't always screen their media.
And onto the things they do-they do love me when I don't deserve it, they do get out of bed and ready for school on time most days, they do thank me for cooking dinner-even if they don't eat it, they do ask for my suggestions, advice and opinions-whether they use it is beside the point, they do hang out with each other and try to accommodate one another's Netflix preferences, they do appreciate when we give them a lift and the clothing we provide, they do have worthwhile hobbies, they do try to do their own laundry, they do act crazy and fun together, they do surprise us and make us laugh, they do share their hearts and deepest thoughts with me, they do love the beach, they do try to please us, they do make us proud, they do have friends, they do look toward to the future, they do turn in their phones at night, they do rarely-randomly tell me I'm a good mom, they do give me coupons and breakfast in bed every Mother's Day, they do buy each other gifts for Christmas, they do help each other with homework, they do participate in family prayer and dinner, they do love to plan vacations, they do love having their own money and being independent whenever given the oppertunity.
The point of these lists is to show myself that I can and do love them unconditionally. For the last 15 years-give or take-I haven't allowed myself to accept them as perfectly imperfect-as they are. I have embraced a culture that I somehow twisted into a long string of "shoulds", "have tos" and a burden of expections.
Whether I placed this presumption on myself or not is irrelevant, it was my reality. I am learning the culture is different than the doctrine but if every church meeting you attend has the same feeling-those two things-culture and doctrine get blurred. It is similar to your mother's dog who reportedly only pisses in the house when you come over-provoked or not. If you only see the dog marking it's territory it is the reality to you her dog is ill-mannered and in need of obedience school.
I felt judged to such a degree that I never saw the beauty within the people with whom I resided. I was always on edge feeling that my efforts were never enough, I should be working harder at creating a Christ centered home, at getting everyone to be missionaries at school and work, at making sure our appearance at church was that of standards (pressed shirts, combed hair), and on and on. But I couldn't ever make that happen, I was constantly failing. I know I am not alone in this self defeating cycle.
I was miserable and making my kids feel I never approved of them, they weren't enough. How is that beneficial to anyone? How does going to church bring joy? I was unable to find balance until I let go. Until I distanced myself to figure out what I truly value.
Could the church possibly be the source of all my angst and confusion about being a mother-the trapped feeling that I have been struggling with? I hadn't before given the thought room to grow I had always denied anything could be wrong with my faith. Maybe I'm the odd one out-I wouldn't be surprised.
2012
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