Hi, My name is Jennifer and I am Not a Perfect Parent

I know we all, with a sense of humility and grace, will confess to one another that we know we aren’t perfect parents. But let’s face it, we really want everyone to think we are…or at least be on the top 10 “Best Parents we Know” list. And we all have a picture of who we want our children to be as adults. I was a perfect parent until I had kids…then they ruined me. I have now been driven to this desperate plea: “Please Lord, don’t let me screw them up!”

We feel the perfect-parent-pressure every time we’re in Target and our toddler throws themselves on the floor screaming their head off because we won’t buy them a toy. We feel it when the teacher says, “Your son (immediately making it my fault) is very easily distracted in class.” She says it with her mouth, but her eyes are saying, “Are you sure your son isn’t from another planet?” My favorite was when we took our two year old daughter to the ER because we thought she might be dehydrated from vomiting all day. The place was packed, of course, and we had to wait forever. After about 3 hours, our dear sweet daughter, whose fever had come down and who had perked up by then, ran to the opposite end of the crowded waiting room, turned around and at the top of her verbal-beyond-her-years voice yelled, “I AM NOT GOING TO THE DOCTOR….EVER!!!!!” I saw all the shocked faces looking at me and tried desperately to say, “I’ve never seen that child before in my life!”

We’ve all laid awake at night reading the parenting books and studying the latest philosophy. We pray about today and look toward the teenage years with terror. We are inundated with the latest parenting “must-do”. And we wonder and doubt. I loved the one that made it critical to your child’s character and life’s outcome that you put him on a feeding schedule. I actually had a woman ask me on first glance of my long awaited miracle, “So do you have him on a schedule? Or is this a demand-feed baby?” (said with noticeable disdain) I was shocked that this was her first question and a little afraid that maybe I didn’t have the right answer. Or how about the one that says the baby should sleep in your bed with you, and won’t bond with you unless they do. What? I can barely sleep in the same bed with my husband and you want me to put a baby in there too?

It seems to me that every time I turn around there’s some critical parenting technique, philosophy, or task at which I have already failed. For example: Potty Training. I am officially a failure. I know you’re thinking that’s not possible…everyone conquers that one. But my six year old, strong-willed, fight to the death daughter is still wetting her panties regularly because she can’t be bothered to go to the bathroom. I can hear you all now thinking, somewhere in cyberspace: “Have you tried a sticker chart?” or “You should spank her!” “Why don’t you have her earn tokens every time she does it right?” “That is ridiculous and you should really…” Believe me when I say: I HAVE TRIED EVERYTHING! I am now at the point of just hoping peer pressure will do what it should and she’ll be humiliated enough to stop peeing her pants! But it sure makes me feel like I’ve reached a new level of incompetence.

Let’s face it. There are a million different parenting philosophies out there. And for every one of them, you could find really wise people who’ll argue the opposite. With every rule or philosophy comes another opportunity to fail as a parent. “Spank your kids.” “Don’t spank your kids, reason with them with love and logic.” “Learn their love language.” “Shove scripture down their throat.” “Don’t exasperate them to anger.” “Spank or don’t spank, but whatever you do…don’t immunize them!” It’s enough to drive us to drink.

The reality, I am learning, is that every child is his/her own person. They have a DNA makeup that is totally unique to them. Modern psychology has taught us that they’re handed to us at birth like little blobs of clay…ready for us to mold into who we want them to be. The church is just as bad at this as society. We’re taught that if we follow the “correct” spiritual steps, our children will grow up to be passionate about the Lord. Yet statistically, kids who are raised going to church very often walk away as adults. I think we’ve put way too much pressure on ourselves, way too much power in our own hands, and frankly, think way too highly of ourselves. Aren’t we ultra-quick to judge that poor mom in Target? I know parents who did everything “right” and their children are not exactly who they’d hoped they would be as adults. I also know parents who did a lot of things “wrong” and have adult children who have wildly surpassed all their hopes for them.

Here’s the good news…and really our only hope. Our children have a creator who has knit them together exactly the way He wanted and is weaving a tapestry of their life even while I type. He has a plan for them and is leading them on a journey of His making. He uses my successes and even my failures as a parent, but ultimately who they become is between them and their creator. I, as a mom, really have much less to do with it than I like to think. This is really good news for me, since I am hopelessly flawed.

“And He has said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.’” 2 Corinthians 12: 9a He’s constantly wanting me to let go of the reigns and let Him to do what He does best.

Bottom line: I am called to be a faithful parent, not a perfect one. I am called to continue on the path laid before me, brushing myself off when I fall. I need to give my kids love and safety...and lots of opportunity to overcome suffering. I am compelled to teach my children about the Lord “…when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise up”. Deuteronomy 6:7 . But mostly, it is utterly imperative for me to continually lay my children before the Lord and ask Him to do the job.

He reminded me of this yesterday morning in the car ride to school. My sweet and fiesty panty-wetter said sweetly, “Mama, can we hear that song again?” “Sure, baby.” She then began to sing with her breathy voice words that flooded my eyes with tears and my heart with peace:

“I have a Maker
He formed my heart
Before even time began
My life was in His hands

I have a Father
He calls me His own
He’ll never leave me
No matter where I go

He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
And He hears me when I call”

Whew! What a relief!