There are a lot of pretty cliché sayings when it comes to parenting. Whether or not you are a parent, I am sure you’ve heard them, so I won’t repeat them here. However, one of these sayings, as a parent, I still daily find hard to comprehend. “When it comes to parenting, the sacrifice is worth the reward”.
Yes! Awesome! The reward! Wait, what? There’s a reward at the end? Because the sacrifice is BIG. Let me be clear, I did not become a parent because I knew there would be a reward at the end. There is no said reward, as far as I was concerned when it came time to make this life changing decision. But, hearing that there was a reward, did not make me mad.
Now that Devin, my husband, and I are in it. Like, REALLY in the thick of parenting; the trenches we like to call it, I just don’t know what this reward will be for all these big heavy sacrifices. I have actually been praying about this lately. Not because I feel I deserve a reward for procreating, but just because parenting has been hard lately, and quite frankly I needed some encouragement. And I believe that God is very clearly saying A) that He doesn’t like cliché sayings like that…which is great, we agree and B) there is no big fat reward when your child turns 18. And everybody’s reward looks different, because we were all created different. Our rewards for parenting well and intentionally and with love and care come quickly, without warning, and are most of the time very small and could easily be missed.
For instance, one of the greatest gifts our oldest son, Declan (3 ½) gives us is affection, because he is not very affectionate by nature. So when he says “mommy, would you like to snuggle me while we watch a show”? I literally drop what I am doing (unless I am holding the baby of course) and go reap the benefits of the sometimes painful seed sowing that is raising a small child. Some children give their parents literal gifts. Some very rich children give their parents houses or boats or something extravagant. And of course there is everything in-between.
I’ve been thinking about my parents a lot lately, and all the big sacrifices they made for me, and continue to make. I hate to admit it, but my thoughts about them are usually triggered from thoughts about myself and my own motherhood journey. But most recently, I have been reflecting on their sacrifice. So, I’d like to give them a little taste of their parenting reward…here on the internet…for anyone and everyone to see.
Dear Dad and Mom,
I want you to know I see you. Yes, I see you physically, but it’s more than that. I feel that finally, as a 29 year old mother, I truly SEE you. I see you when I look at Devin and I raising small children. I see you, mom, in my tired morning reflection after being up with a baby who has night terrors. I see you, dad, as I watch Devin come home from work and instantly drop to the floor to become a human jungle gym for his high energy sons to climb on and be physical with. I see you, mom and dad, when Devin and I finally flop to the couch at 10pm when the children are asleep and the aftermath of 2 small boys under 3 is cleaned up. That’s when we finally have a chance to really say hello to one another. I see how challenging that is on a marriage. I see your sacrifices, I see your teachings, and I see your gifts. And I’d like to tell you exactly how it is that I have come to see you both.
Mom;
- You sacrificed your body; for the 9 months you carried, grew, and nourished me. Then, you sacrificed again, when it came time to nurse me. It’s hard, so hard, but you knew it was the best thing for your newborn daughter so you did it. And then, you made the soul crushing decision to put me on formula so that you could go back to work. Thank you for making that completely selfless decision, because that’s a stinking hard one to make.
- You sacrificed sleep. SO much sleep. There was sleep lost during pregnancy because it’s just so uncomfortable. There was sleep lost for the first 72 hours of my life because labor and delivery; and post-partum testing and hospital visitors and middle of the night blood draws. There was sleep lost all night every night due to a crying infant, which then turns into a toddler having bad dreams, which turns into an elementary aged kid who is too excited to start their Saturday and wakes you at 6am. There was sleep lost from worry and anxiety over your middle schooler’s insecurities and acne and basketball tryouts. There was sleep lost over the gut wrenching fear of your 16 year old operating a motor vehicle, and then having way too serious of a boyfriend so young, and losing friends and coming into faith and moving away to college. And I know you are still losing sleep, because, it never ends.
- You sacrificed your heart and emotions, because I know from the time I could feel, YOU were feeling every ache and pain and joy and celebration and devastation and longing and disappointment and fullness and excitement that I was feeling. I clearly remember you celebrating my highest highs with me and crying with me in my lowest lows (specifically during a major battle with depression in high school where you hovered your body over mine to protect me from the rain, as I was outside weeping into the storm). Because I know, that when you feel those things with and for your children at the end of the day sometimes it feels like there’s nothing left emotionally, whether it be good or bad, to feel for yourself. You’re exhausted from the weight of it all.
- You sacrificed hot meals and drinks, specifically those made by other people. One of the simplest things motherhood has taught me is not to underestimate the true gift that a hot cup of coffee or tea made by somebody else is.
- You sacrificed the stay-at-home-mom dream role in order to go back to work, so we could eat, and so dad didn’t have to bear the entire financial burden of raising a family all on his own.
- You sacrificed your pride. You were always willing to look and act silly. And when your mouthy know it all teenage daughter used spiteful tones and wanted to win arguments, you would back down, because you are so graceful about choosing your battles.
- You sacrificed your body too, because it became a literal jungle gym. The safest and most fun kind too, because nothing bad could happen there. No falls, no broken bones, no playground bullying. Only flying and wrestling where I could rest assured my head would land in a safe and loving spot.
- You sacrificed the dream of having a star athlete for a child, one who would follow in your record setting footsteps, because both of your kids loved music. And the feeling of having your unwavering support when I decided to leave the varsity basketball team my sophomore year, still resides in my bones today.
- For all intents and purposes, I know this was never a dream you dreamt out loud to us, but I can only imagine it was laid deep in your heart somewhere.
- You sacrificed sacred alone time with mom, your beloved, your wife. You shared your bed, your time, and your other half. Small children (and big children too for that matter) steal that from husbands, but you gracefully adapted, and did so with great joy.
- You were a constant man in my life. You were able to find this beautiful balance between gentle and doting and tough love and character building. You showed me how much you loved me by your steady consistency of simply just showing up.
- You also, sacrificed your heart. It can’t be easy to watch your daughter’s heart be broken. But you loved and guided me through that heart break and gently and cautiously but trustingly and confidently handed me over to Devin, my husband, who would be the new protector of my heart. And thanks, by the way, for not being that mean distant dad on the porch with a gun. That’s so lame.
- You’ve taught me to share. Not just my toys or my opinions or my faith or the butter (it’s always the butter; pass the butter, more butter please). But you taught me to share the most important people in my life. I had to learn to share you both growing up. I shared mom with my friends and classmates and church family, and I shared dad with teammates and players he was coaching and my female cousins, when they needed a father figure in their lives. I absolutely believe that watching you both give not just to Ian and I, but to other people who needed you so desperately, played such an integral part of preparing me to be a pastor’s wife; because there is lots of sharing my husband in ministry.
- You have taught and continue to teach me how to gracefully allow my children to grow up and grow out and not hinder or deter these experiences, even though it may be hard for me to watch. The older I get the more I see what a gift this trait is, and you both have it.
- You sacrificed date nights, because money was tight and when you work, you desperately want to be with your spouse but you also desperately want to be with your kids; and finding that balance is hard. So like most parents, you mostly chose the kids.
- I understand and appreciate the deep ache a parent feels when thinking about their children. It’s an ache unlike any other. It’s somehow emotional AND physical. It goes deep into your bones and draws you out of bed at all hours of the day (some of us nap when our kids nap, ok?) and night to the bedside of our sleeping children just to smell their hair or whisper one more prayer over them or kiss those stinky little lips.
- You have shown me how to celebrate your children, not just for whom they are, but JUST how they are.
- You sacrificed hobbies, so you could BE with us, not just GIVE to us. As an adult, I know money was tight when we were little. But for what it’s worth, I didn’t know that then. All I knew was the fun, the play, the pretending, the laughs, and most of all, I knew your presence.
Always,
Leah
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