Of course, my answer is far too often, "Not right now, babe." Or, "I can't, sweetie. I'm just too busy." But what am I busy with? I'm busy "taking care" of him. I do the same thing with B.daddy. I stay so busy meeting practical needs, that I miss out on meeting their real needs. The house is clean, food is healthy, education is given. But what about the needs of their hearts?
I know, as home managers, we have to be reasonable. We have to juggle and compromise, and sometimes we have to say no.
But what I'm really talking about is cutting ourselves some slack. We feel guilty for everything, so the last conclusion we'd come to is to take it easy on ourselves. Even now I'm thinking of all the selfish reasons I don't play with Gizmo when he asks. "It's because I want things to be a certain way that I can't take the time to sit on the floor and pretend to be Lightin' McQueen."
I'm learning, though, that it's not so much that I want those things. It's that I hold myself to such high standards, that I can't imagine taking a minute to enjoy the day. To enjoy playing with my son. To enjoy my son!
I think I have to meet my high standards in order to please my family.
But I don't. They are pleased with me because of who I am. They love me because I love them. I don't have to prove that I'm worthy of their love. They just love me the way I am.
"If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!" Matthew 7:11
We think we've got to prove ourselves in order to be loved. It is so hard for us to actually believe we are lovable--and loved--just the way we are-with all of our quirks and bad habits.
A few days ago I was having a Scrap Day--much like today. I had gotten so lost that I scrapped everything I usually do and hope to accomplish in a day. I was in my pj's with no make up on and a mop-head of hair. I needed to forget about that stuff for a day so I could try to really see what was going on around me.
So Gizmo wanted me to help him fix his car.
The two of us were leaning over the ottoman looking under the hood (the cushion of the rocker-glider was popped up like the hood of a car.) We were fixing spark plugs and adding oil and getting out all the various things that get stuck in an engine block. You wouldn't believe what we pulled out of that thing. But what caught me off guard was this: My son, who is scarcely outwardly affectionate turned and stared at my face. Then he said, "Mommy, you are so beautiful this morning!"
I was meeting his greatest need, enjoying him, and his love poured right out of his mouth.
We just need to let ourselves have more fun, and laugh at all the other crap.















