There is a song from the Broadway show “The Secret Garden” where the little girl Mary sings about needing a quiet place where she can sit and think and draw “the girl she means to be.” I played this for my then-fiance Josh telling him that if he married me, I would need a quiet place to go and “be.” Like little Mary, I always loved sitting by the pond in my childhood home in Alabama and writing and daydreaming; rambling through the woods and past old barns and forgotten bridges ‘til I knew what I needed to know.
Now, there are not so many times these days to go rambling. My hours are spent sitting at a desk in a bustling office rather than by an idyllic body of water. My rambling has gained pace to a full run through life and ministry spent planning ladies events, counseling, and above all that, coordinating the movements and progress of two active schoolgirls and one junior high boy.
Not much time for reflection.
Yet here I am. Trying to channel my mind back to that old gray log nestled on the bank of that good ole’ southern soil. Through the rush of the day’s routine, a thought begging for reflection keeps persistently tugging at my mind: “Who is the mother that I mean to be?”
Over the past year, I have been learning that life is all about choices. If I choose to do one thing, it will mean not doing another. For example, if we choose to take our kids out of town for a family adventure, something will likely come up in town that they will have to miss- a ball game, a school program, etc. This just gets me right in my gut, because, you see, I’m a have-my-cake and eat-it-too kind of girl. I have even seen this pesky principle in
motherhood. If I choose to do certain things with or be a certain way with my kids, I will not have time or energy to do and be other things.
I have to choose.
So, I have been thinking about the mom I mean to be, and here is what I choose:
1. A Joyful Mom
When I was about 9 years old, I was hanging around the church offices when I noticed a ladies’ newsletter. It was printed by a small ladies group from another state and sent out to various churches. With Mother’s Day approaching, there was an article stating that you could send in an essay about your mother along with a picture of her to be printed in their next issue. Well, I jumped on that. I don’t remember what I wrote, but I do remember the picture I included. In the picture, my mom was wearing pink sweat pants, no makeup, had hair loose- a bit tossled, was vacuuming with one hand, the other outstretched, kicking her leg up, and a giant smile on her face. Now this is not how my quiet and rather shy mother typically cleaned house; but this was how she posed for a silly picture with her little girl who had a new camera. I remember when the paper came with my essay, she teared up as she read my words and hugged me close. Then she sat backed, laughed, and shook her head, “Heather, why in the world would you choose this picture?”
I told her I loved that picture, it was one of my favorites, and asked what was wrong with it. She tried to explain what I sooooo understand now as a lady who has to take five or more pictures before I can acquiesce to use one of them. But I didn’t get it back then. I didn’t see messy hair, wrinkles, or work clothes. All I saw was my mother: full of joy and having fun.
As I have worked diligently this week, assigning chores and organizing our laundry schedule, that picture of my mom keeps popping up in my mind’s eye. While I loved that my mom kept our house clean and made great food for us, what I loved most was her sweet spirit.
Will I let my plans today for order and excellence remove the twinkle from my eye? Will the charts and meal planning be so important that I have no time to be silly and tease? Can I stop my vacuuming to pose for a silly picture?
You know, Jesus was joyful. We don’t often picture Jesus having fun, do we? Laughing at the antics of James and John’s boyhood stories, smiling at Martha’s overflowing table full of warm matzo and playfully asking if she thought she had made enough, or perhaps flinging at fishtail at an un-suspecting Peter after dinner by the campfire? We are made in His image, and everything besides our sin is a reflection of Who He is; from our creativity, to our will, to our ability to enjoy life. He is a God of joy. In fact, the Bible tells us that He takes joy in His children:
“The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, and he will joy over thee with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17
If my Heavenly Father, can joy over me, in spite of His busy schedule and my lack of understanding and hardheadedness, shouldn’t I reflect His character to my own children?
So, I ask Him today and tomorrow to give me a present smile, a ready tease, to give me joy.
This is the mom I mean to be.
