Maybe "Safe" Is Never Better Than "Sorry"
The moments that define me, as a parent, always come when I least expect it. On my worst parenting days, for example, when I'm yelling or short tempered. Days I'd rather forget! Or when I'm up in the middle of the night with an inconsolable kid and am literally at my worst. It is usually during these, what feels like, most inconvenient times that the Lord - in his mercy, seems to do his most transforming work. So, when I felt the Lord's conviction and sensed his showing me something big recently, I knew I was in for a redefinition, of sorts. And, as is usually the case, it began with yet another parenting fail.
"Maybe you should ask Coach if he'll let you sit the last period out - so you can rest."
As I heard the words come out of my mouth, I knew they were wrong. But I continued, "It's probably for the best."
She looked up at me with trust in her eyes and nodded, indicating I was right. And, for a brief moment a wave of relief washed over me. It's better this way, I thought to myself. She could get too rundown and have a blood-sugar issue. Better safe than sorry.
Yep. There it was. Our new "moto", if you will. "Better safe than sorry" had become our means of coping with the long years of our daughter's illness. We have lived by this unintentional maxim as if our very lives depended on it! Dealing with the daily unknown of her illness has created a, sort of, risk-averse gut reaction. And as we've begun to step further and further outside of that "safe zone" we have lived in for so long, we are finding that sometimes, well sometimes we just want to do what is easiest. And for better or for worse - what is safer.
But is safer always better?, comes that voice. Isn't this one of those moments? A moment that will help define you. And, more importantly, define her. Because, what might seem easier isn't always better. And safe isn't necessarily good.
I know this "voice" to be my Lord's.
Convicting me.
Challenging me.
And mercifully, correcting me.
You see, our daughter's life will probably never be easy. She will struggle with things that others will do without effort. Though she will not struggle nearly as hard as some she will struggle more than most. And that's what He wants me to see. Once again, I'm longing for the easy road for her. The road with the fewest "bumps". But that's not the life He has called her to. He has called her to a life of hard things - already. And I will not help her become the woman He has called her to be by pushing her toward easy and safe. No matter how much I want to protect her. And if I'm being honest - to protect myself.
"Will you talk to Coach and tell him I need to sit out?", came her sweet little voice interrupting my thoughts. God in his graciousness was giving me a second chance.
"You know what, baby girl?", I heard myself say, "Let's let Coach decide. If he decides to put you in - I think you should play. Who knows, you might be fine. But we won't know unless we try, right?"
Again, she looks up at me with those utterly, trusting eyes. "You're right mommy. I should try."
What I learned in this moment is almost too complex to put into words, but I will try. I sense that the Lord wants me to see my fear and how it limits my walk with him. When all I can see is all the bad that has and can still happen, I become paralyzed by it. And like Peter who suddenly realizes the danger of walking-on-water, I take my eyes off of my Lord and begin to sink. (Mathew 14:22-33) But it's the other piece that surprises me most. I believe he is showing me how my fear has also been informing and shaping much of my parenting - and if I'm honest - my life.
But this day the Lord allowed me to push against that fear. My brave girl went back into the game where she was given the task of taking the inbounded ball down the court. As she has yet to master the skill of dribbling, this undertaking always proves quite difficult for her. I marvel at my Lord's grace and mercy. This is, literally, the most difficult job she could do! You see, I was ready to give-up and do what was easiest - sure that what she needed was safety. But as I watched her struggle to dribble even a few times and eventually pick-up the ball to pass it off to her teammate, I was filled with awe. There was such pride on my girl's face. And with each pass came a shout of "That's ONE!" or "That's TWO!" - an indication of how many passes she had made. What may have looked like a failure to you or I, was a success for this child - who had overcome her fear and done something she didn't think she could do.
Today, I am grateful for these times when I get it all wrong. With each new "lesson" comes humility and insight, but most importantly a better understanding of just how good our God is, friends. He could have let me alone. Let me encourage my girl to take the safest way possible. And, honestly, she would have been ok - we would have been fine. But our God wants more for us than "ok".
"Maybe you should ask Coach if he'll let you sit the last period out - so you can rest."
As I heard the words come out of my mouth, I knew they were wrong. But I continued, "It's probably for the best."
She looked up at me with trust in her eyes and nodded, indicating I was right. And, for a brief moment a wave of relief washed over me. It's better this way, I thought to myself. She could get too rundown and have a blood-sugar issue. Better safe than sorry.
Yep. There it was. Our new "moto", if you will. "Better safe than sorry" had become our means of coping with the long years of our daughter's illness. We have lived by this unintentional maxim as if our very lives depended on it! Dealing with the daily unknown of her illness has created a, sort of, risk-averse gut reaction. And as we've begun to step further and further outside of that "safe zone" we have lived in for so long, we are finding that sometimes, well sometimes we just want to do what is easiest. And for better or for worse - what is safer.
But is safer always better?, comes that voice. Isn't this one of those moments? A moment that will help define you. And, more importantly, define her. Because, what might seem easier isn't always better. And safe isn't necessarily good.
I know this "voice" to be my Lord's.
Convicting me.
Challenging me.
And mercifully, correcting me.
You see, our daughter's life will probably never be easy. She will struggle with things that others will do without effort. Though she will not struggle nearly as hard as some she will struggle more than most. And that's what He wants me to see. Once again, I'm longing for the easy road for her. The road with the fewest "bumps". But that's not the life He has called her to. He has called her to a life of hard things - already. And I will not help her become the woman He has called her to be by pushing her toward easy and safe. No matter how much I want to protect her. And if I'm being honest - to protect myself.
"Will you talk to Coach and tell him I need to sit out?", came her sweet little voice interrupting my thoughts. God in his graciousness was giving me a second chance.
"You know what, baby girl?", I heard myself say, "Let's let Coach decide. If he decides to put you in - I think you should play. Who knows, you might be fine. But we won't know unless we try, right?"
Again, she looks up at me with those utterly, trusting eyes. "You're right mommy. I should try."
What I learned in this moment is almost too complex to put into words, but I will try. I sense that the Lord wants me to see my fear and how it limits my walk with him. When all I can see is all the bad that has and can still happen, I become paralyzed by it. And like Peter who suddenly realizes the danger of walking-on-water, I take my eyes off of my Lord and begin to sink. (Mathew 14:22-33) But it's the other piece that surprises me most. I believe he is showing me how my fear has also been informing and shaping much of my parenting - and if I'm honest - my life.
But this day the Lord allowed me to push against that fear. My brave girl went back into the game where she was given the task of taking the inbounded ball down the court. As she has yet to master the skill of dribbling, this undertaking always proves quite difficult for her. I marvel at my Lord's grace and mercy. This is, literally, the most difficult job she could do! You see, I was ready to give-up and do what was easiest - sure that what she needed was safety. But as I watched her struggle to dribble even a few times and eventually pick-up the ball to pass it off to her teammate, I was filled with awe. There was such pride on my girl's face. And with each pass came a shout of "That's ONE!" or "That's TWO!" - an indication of how many passes she had made. What may have looked like a failure to you or I, was a success for this child - who had overcome her fear and done something she didn't think she could do.
Today, I am grateful for these times when I get it all wrong. With each new "lesson" comes humility and insight, but most importantly a better understanding of just how good our God is, friends. He could have let me alone. Let me encourage my girl to take the safest way possible. And, honestly, she would have been ok - we would have been fine. But our God wants more for us than "ok".
Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint. (Isaiah 40:28-31)
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint. (Isaiah 40:28-31)
Loving and praying for you all, today!
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