Mary.
I mean this with the utmost respect and reverence. Mary is one of my heroes.
I know the popular phrase is "What would Jesus do?"
But personally, I often think, "What would Mary do?"
I wonder what kind of mother she was to Jesus when he was young. Was he a typical boy when he was two years old? How did she discipline him? Was she confident in her ways or did she ever doubt whether she was a good mother or not? Did she ever cry from "mommy guilt"? Did she ever get frustrated or frazzled? Did she ever long for "me" time?
When I reach the end of my rope, I think, "What would Mary have done with little Jesus in this situation?" Sometimes, I wish Mary had penned the second "Guide to Parenting". I know God wrote the first, but sometimes I wish I knew more about the practical ways Mary raised Jesus.
Raising a boy is clearly way out of my league. 80% of the time I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. The other 20%...I'm so busy cleaning up after his messes (physical, mental and emotional) that I'm not thinking at all. Just praying for strength.
I don't want you to think that Will is a bad kid. In fact, most people think he's fairly well behaved and sweet. But I'm his mother, and I am with him all of the time...not just when he's on his best behavior.
Take this morning for instance. Everything was going pretty smoothly. Breakfast was fed and the kids were playing. I was trying to write some emails when Will walked up to me and I noticed that horrible smell.
Me: Will, do you have poop?
W: Uh-huh
Me: Ok, lay down. (As I unbuttoned his little short overalls I noticed that they were soaking wet. Oh, and there was NO DIAPER on him) Will! Where is your diaper????!!!??
W: ummm...
I wiped what was left off of him and went looking for the bomb. I found a little trail of poopoo leading back to where he and Mallory were playing. (then my blood pressure started climbing)Me: You've got to be kidding me!
There were little poops all over the kitchen floor and carpet. I also found a yellow wet spot on the carpet where Will had been playing. Oh, and I found the poop filled diaper. My morning went from peaceful to stressful in about 1 minute. I started barking out orders to both kids to bring me various cleaning tools, chemicals and trash bags. My schedule for the day suddenly included mopping the kitchen floor and scrubbing the carpet. Neither of which did I have a very happy heart about. I ordered the kids to go upstairs and leave me alone so I could clean up the disgusting mess.
In the middle of my cleaning I began to think about Mary. Did anything like this every happen to her? What would she have said? Would she have freaked out and gotten angry like I did? Would she have yelled at Jesus? Would she have spanked him? I wish I knew. I wish I had her on the phone to calm me down and say something to the effect of, "He will turn out wonderfully. Despite the daily, or even hourly, chaos he will grow up to love God."
Then, I started thinking silly things. Like, is Mary watching me now? Is she giggling at my obsession with the moment? After all, she has perspective that I don't have. Is she thinking, "Well, if you had dirt floors, you probably wouldn't have gotten so upset." I can't wait to meet her someday. And, honestly, that is what keeps me going a lot of the time. I can't give up and give in to the devil's temptations. I have to control my temper and force myself to be at peace. I have to force my thoughts to focus on God and what he wants of me instead of dwelling on the tyranny of the moment.
I want to get to heaven someday, for a lot of reasons, one of which is to talk to Mary. And hug her.
He's lucky that he's just so irresistibly cute!
A rare moment of peace
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