Yesterday I had one of those crazy mom days. I volunteered at school from 9:30 AM to 2:30 PM. In the hour I had left over before I picked my children up from school, I answered emails for the soccer team I am coaching and the lacrosse team I am managing. I updated team web sites and threw in a load of laundry so our weekend visitors can have clean towels. I picked my children up and spent 45 minutes planting seeds in the garden with my daughter because she wanted me to help her. Then with the 15 minutes I had left before I had to make dinner, eat quick, and then drive one child to soccer practice, one child to choir practice, and then lead the oldest child’s church confirmation group, I decided to spend time with God.
As a recovering perfectionist, I find time with God to be one of the things that keeps me on the wagon. Nothing is harder for us perfectionist than a lack of control. Being a parent is living is a constant state of chaos. So, my devotional for yesterday was an especially important reminder.
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” – Philippians 4:13
I wrote in my journal about this verse all while the littlest one begged for me to do something else for her. It was hard to focus on God and I did the best I could in the middle of my busy, messy chaos. There certainly wasn't anything perfect about this 15 minutes with God.
Then I made dinner, drove kids, and attempted to guide 11 year old boys for the last time this school year. We were being treated to a night of fun and celebration after a year of learning together. In the middle of celebrating, my son had an accident. He was tripped up during a jump rope game and slammed face first onto a hard concrete floor. He rose from his fall and passed out in my arms. I watched as my child’s eyes rolled back and he sank into my arms with a little moan. All I could think was “oh God please.” The next 15 seconds were a blur as people ran to help and call 911. Then I felt a calm. I felt a strength I didn’t know I had within me; or maybe more accurately, I don’t have within me. In the shadow of the cross hung for Easter, my baby lay waiting for help. His care was out of my hands. People who knew what to do were sent to help. And, just 15 minutes later he stood up, a little weak, but ok.
I have been told in those 15 minutes, it was my calm face that kept my baby still. My reassuring voice kept him calm. I know that he was scared, and so was I. But, the fear didn’t overtake either of us. I know it was important for him to stay still and calm until the professionals could deem it was safe to move him. And I know that God was the reason I had the strength to model calm to my son. I also may, or may not, have responded with a bit of sarcasm to the police officer that responded to the emergency call just to keep the mood light. I may, or may not, have gotten my son laughing by using a word which would be deemed questionable in a church setting. I may have had the strength of Jesus, but I certainly still remained my slightly inappropriate self. These were fifteen perfect minutes because of God.
My day ended after a trip to the hospital to confirm all was well and several phone conversations to ensure everyone knew we were ok. I could only sleep after I held my baby and thanked God. I will be forever thankful that in the shadow of the Easter Cross, God took care of my baby, and me too. I am forever grateful God takes care of us each and everyday, even us recovering perfectionists.
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