Please, please, tell me what to do.
I have no idea what I'm doing;
I do not spend enough time with my children,
loving and disciplining them,
therefore I do not know how to handle this situation.
So, please tell me how to raise my children.
Yes, it is a long statement for a complete stranger to read across my forehead. But surprisingly enough, Boston is filled with speed readers. And they are mostly old and Italian. I have found myself in SO many situations where a total stranger deems it necessary to advise me in my post as mother.
~One woman told me, red wine swishing around in her glass, that when my children come to me fighting and screaming, I should just knock their heads together (literally) and they'll be close forever afterwards. (Yes, in revolt to their wicked mother.) That one gave us a good laugh--a bit of horror.
~While piling my children into the van, a woman bent over with age informed me: "Don't have any more, dear! Please! It's just too hard. You have enough."
~Walking with my two eldest at my side and my youngest in the womb, a hard woman stated, "You must be a glutton for punishment."
~Li'l Bit and I were crossing the parking lot at Stop n' Shop and a lady yells out her window, "Teach her right!"
~A Walmart classic: Ladybug was less than a month old, and sleeping soundly in the Sleepy Wrap. A lady stopped me to make sure my newborn's neck was okay since her head was laying back a bit. I was in no position to take anything in stride or with good humor, so I gave her a brisk, Yes, she's fine, and walked away.
~Again in Walmart, I was correcting Li'l Bit as she was pulling the cart back towards whatever it was she wanted, and an old, gentle man said, "She's only trying to help." I heeded his advice because he was old and gentle and I was being harsh, but she was trying to help me buy her some marshmallows.
~Then yesterday, the guy at the Burger King window said with a chuckle in his throat and knowing look in his eye, "Now, don't drive too fast." What about my Burger King order and minivan made him think I drive too fast?!
As ridiculous as most of these situations were, they got to me. Every time. It would take days to get them out of my system. When actually they are still circulating in my system--I just managed to get them out of my constant thoughts. And it strikes me: I care about what other people think. I know I shouldn't; I've had great phases when I didn't care. But cyclically, I am here again, finding my worth in my appearance and performance.
Motherhood is the perfect time to remedy this problem simply because we are presented with so much unsolicited advice. We are forced to deal with this. I can either dread taking my children in public because I know most eyes are on me; or I can believe that I am who God says I am and perform every mothering duty fearlessly, lovingly as unto the Lord. The only remedy for the hopelessness of pleasing and impressing people, is to believe God, bask in His love, obey Him, love Him.
"That God always gave us light in our doubts when we had no other design but to please Him.
That our sanctification did not depend upon our changing our works, but in doing that for God's sake which we commonly do for our own. That it was lamentable to see how many people mistook the means for the end, addicting themselves to certain works, which they performed very imperfectly, by reason of their human or selfish regards.
That the most excellent method he had found of going to God was that of doing our common business without any view of pleasing men, and (as far we are capable) purely for the love of God."
The Practice of the Presence of God
Brother Lawrence
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