I tried something new tonight. Instead of griping about “the mess,” I stopped, now that the kids are actually asleep for the night, and went around the living room. I took account of every toy, every marker, every shoe, every evidence of the little people who live in this house. And I was thankful.
The marker that means my children were creative today.
The book about only puppies and kitties, a reminder that, all too soon, their books will be much more difficult. But for now, we’re still covering the basics.
Timmy’s favorite tractor that we trip over (and over and over) but it means he was here playing with it again today.
The blocks left over from the tower Timmy and I built and knocked down, once, twice, six times…together.
The book that Eric read to his little people tonight.
The couch cushions that I complained about earlier as I tripped over them again. They were still on the floor. But that means my children were being active today. They jumped and bounced and lived. They laid on the cushions however they liked. And more than that, they made themselves comfortable in this house. They felt safe enough to mess it up, despite my grumbling about it.
And the dress-up box. It’s full of sparkly jewels, tiaras, shoes. It’s got funny glasses and doctor’s kit items and a foam hat or two. Proof that my children are trying on different personas, trying out what it means to be a princess or a doctor or a worker or a mom. It’s pretend, but it’s practice. They’re exploring who they really are.
And I wondered. What are they trying on in less obvious ways? And how am I responding to those practice sessions?
When they try on my anger habit, do I affirm them?
When they test out bravery by trying something new, do I nitpick the imperfections so they fear to be brave again?
When they laugh at silly things, do I laugh along with them, affirming for them the joy that I hope they always keep in their hearts?
When I see them trying to please me, do I point them to pleasing Jesus?
When they hint at perfectionism, do I ease their burden with grace or add to it with expectations?
Every day, my children are learning about who they are, who God made them to be. They are in the days of try-outs for their future selves. Oh, Jesus, let me be cautious and aware of my role in who they become. Yes, it’s not all up to me. But so much of my response to them and their practices and pretendings will define what they try again, how they believe they have to behave, and what they fear to do. Give me grace and wisdom, Jesus, to affirm what makes you happy and to encourage them to “dress up” with all the beauty and valor of a life that sings Your praise.
Every day.
