“But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart”.
Luke 2:19
This verse – this moment – in the Gospel of St. Luke has been
rolling around in my heart for the
past few days. It’s always been one of
my favorite moments in the story of Christ’s birth because it’s so relatable,
so peaceful, so maternal.
Pregnancy introduces a lot of temptation to worry and fuss and
overplan. I know. Take this from the
woman who wants an extra refrigerator upstairs because I’m afraid I might trip
over the enormous Miss Daphne and tumble down the stairs on my way to get a
glass of milk at 2 a.m..
As my physical pace slows during my third trimester and the
sunlight grows increasingly scarce, I’m beginning to realize the enormous value
of this pondering period. I couldn’t
have set the time frame of this pregnancy to correspond any better with the
seasons, as the cold months invite repose and reflection more than any
other. While my thoughts are far from
similar to Mary’s – she having to consider the words of angels, the rumors
swirling through local shepherd’s fields regarding the divinity of her son, and
probably the dismay of some future in-laws – I realize that the arrival of a
child is a prime occasion to weigh a parent’s innermost thoughts.
Over the past few months, I’ve been blazing through my second
trimester in my “I’ll think about it tomorrow”/ Scarlett O’Hara mode. There was just too much that demanded to be
done, which robbed me of the time necessary to find a “Pooh’s corner” and
devote much effort to deep thought. I
viewed it as nesting time in reverse – do
all that I can while energy and physical limitations were at their most
cooperative, and then sit down to plan and
prioritize after I’d been grounded by
mounting challenges to my physical equilibrium.
So now that my pace is slowing, what’s on the plate to ponder,
Pooh?
What
kind of parents will we be? This
goes beyond the typical “Will I be a good
parent?” question. After all, only
time will answer that. We’ve got to
isolate exactly what priorities guide excellent parenting. I know that attaining this goal includes
things far beyond ticking off a simple checklist. It’s not about accomplishment (which drives
me CRAZY, because I’m accomplishment-driven).
It’s about the relationship we want with our child/future children, and
not necessarily about elaborate vacations or expensive wardrobes that can seem
tempting to use as substitutes for day to day involvement. Which leads me to my next thought…
What
kind of lifestyle should we be careful to model to our family? This reaches far beyond what limits we set
and habits we abstain from. After all,
it’s easy for anyone (whether religious or not) to go around with their nose up
in the air and the notion that they’re a good person for the sake of what they don’t do. When it comes to actively teaching our child
what is positive and worthwhile, it’s going to come down to making mindful
choices of how we spend our time, money, and health in front of them. For example, if we choose to do something
important with them (like keep a promise to go to the park) rather than accept
an invitation that might advance us socially as adults, that reinforces that
keeping promises to each other is more important than doing something that
benefits us selfishly. If I put
forethought and effort into making sure that my family eats wholesomely and
well, I’ll not only reinforce the importance of that habit, but I’ll have one
more avenue to teach the pleasure of planning, shopping and cooking as an
expression of love toward those in my household. And in the same vein, if Jason and I invest
in making our home a pleasant place to for family and friends to gather (with
all the visual warmth and tidiness that requires), then it will communicate how
much we want those we love to enjoy one another’s company by providing them a
safe and welcoming environment.
And then, unquestionably, What
kind of spiritual life do we want our children to bear witness to? To be blunt, I’m talking about the stuff of
substance not always addressed in polite Sunday School discussion. They, more often than anyone else, will be
privy to those potentially undignified moments when we as flawed human beings
simply fall short of what we profess.
I know those moments will occur.
They happen constantly without the added pressure of being responsible
for another human being. Every day, I
screw up and likely cause others to question where I stand.
I catch myself gossiping at work. My temper flares when I judge others to be
incompetent and willfully ignorant. I can
be as impetuous as Captain Ahab. It
frightens the fool outta me that some poor unsuspecting kid will have a
front-row seat to these and other day-to-day shortcomings. The best thing I know to do in response to
this is to acknowledge over and over that I’m weak and in need of salvation and
direction, and to fill my life with the salve of this grace and be hungry every
day for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. It will take maturity on my part to call my selfish
failures what they are (sin!), accept forgiveness and press on. Thank goodness Jesus invites us to walk with him, with all the skipping, stumbling,
and falling on our faces that entails –
not just sit on a mountaintop and just soak up our own perceived perfection.
It’s too exhausting to act like you’re convinced you’re perfect,
anyway.
Don’t be that guy.
Ok, that’s enough deep thought for today.
How about a couple of baby picture to cleanse the mental palette?
Sweet little Jason at the beginning of his goose-egg phase.
Sometimes he still knocks a knot on his adorable forehead.
Baby me, looking like I'm angling to sell someone a used car.
