Ann Ruethling and Patti Pitcher reflected on what they found to be true in parenting in Under the Chinaberry Tree.  You’d be missing out if you didn’t have an opportunity to read their thoughts…

“If he had asked me a couple of years ago to tell him what I’d found to be true about parenting. I wouldn’t have mentioned the obvious – the wakeful nights, the spit-up, or the endless diapers – but rather what a profoundly life-changing experience it is.  As I get more and more days of parenting under my belt, though, I realize my advice would come in the form of questions.  I would ask…

Did you search your sould more deeply than you’ve ever searched it before deciding to have a baby and do you understand that parenting is forever?  Do you understand that no matter how much you prepare or how much you read, you will still find yourself questioning?  That the questions get bigger and harder – not smaller and easier – as your child gets older?  That there will be times when your child will need you to hold him in his darkest hour – whether he’s fifteen months or fifteen years old – even when every bone in your body says you don’t have the energy or when your appointment book says you don’t have the time?  That you will need to take a hard look at what ‘everybody’s doing’ and ask for the wisdom to know what is best and the courage to act from your heart?  Do you understand, the sooner the better in your parenting journey, that you are not parenting in a vacuum, that your child, raised with the values you have given her, will be impacting the world for better or for worse sooner than you’d ever dreamed?  Did you search your soul and even try to understand how our society has reached the point where children kill children?

And I would go on.  Are you willing to pray for guidance to know how to bring some Light into our often dark world, to take steps to soften the hard edges?  Do you have the patience to cry with others when there is pain and be full of joy when something of beauty has graced your family’s life?  Are you willing to slow down; to be sleepless in the middle of the night, wondering if you handled something the best way; to learn more than you thought you ever wanted to learn about things that have nothing to do with advanced degrees or the career track?  Can you be vulnerable?  Are you willing to be more completely honest than you’ve ever been?  Are you willing to see the places in your life where you stopped growing long ago?  Do you understand that to bring a child into the world, as well as to birth yourself as a more compassionate human being in the process of parenting, is not only the hardest thing you’ll likely ever do but, just as important, a profound honor? 

Yes, I would ask my friend these questions, longing for him to understand in the process of answering them the sacredness of the work at hand.  For if his answers are ‘yes’ then I trust that each time he wipes grubby hands, makes yet another peanut butter sandwich and with loving words breaks up a sibling dispute, he knows with each cell of his being that parenting is noble work whose every act is heroic and a task worth doing from the deepest, best place of his soul.”

“Before falling into sleep, remember the ordinary moments of the day, the moments with your children that meant something to you.  This simple exercise is like a spiritual corrective lens.  In your vision of your kids, it helps restore the prominence of ‘who they are’ over ‘what they need to do’ or ‘what they need to work on.’  Review the images; revisit the funny yet strangely insightful thing your daughter said, the gesture your son made that surprised you.  Think about how your little one climbed up on the bench by the window at three o’clock, somehow sensing that her sister’s bus would arrive soon.  Remember how your twins looked at the park, the newly minted freckles on their cheeks; their pride in mastering the jungle gym rings.  Remember the way your daughter looked minutes ago when you checked on her: horizontal on the bed with her arm flung back over her head, as though she had tried to outrun sleep.  Relive those moments, and give them their due.  Let the images rise to the surface of your day.  Let them fill the emotional waters that will lull you, in waves of appreciation and wonder, into sleep.”  Kim John Payne, Simplicity Parenting

I look down and cannot help but stare in amazement at the perfect little creature swaddled in my arms.  A little button nose, sweet sleepy eyes, hands held in tightly closed fists.  I watch.  I wait.  He sleeps.  Content.  Wrapped in love.  I keep watching.  What else is there for me to do?  I’ve been banned to the couch until my six week check-up.  I’m getting good at watching.  I keep watching.  Perfection.  Right here in my arms.  I might have missed it if I weren’t on bedrest.  Did I miss this with Joseph and William?  I don’t know.  I can’t remember because the early days with them seem like a blur now.  I rushed with them.  Rushed to get back into the swing of things.  Rushed to see their first real smile; to hear their first real laugh; to get into some kind of routine.  This time I have nothing to rush for.  I have 27 more days until I can leave my post on the couch (yep, Joseph and I made a countdown chain to track Mommy’s healing).  I can fill those 27 days with busywork.  Searching the internet; making lists; compiling homeschool curriculum ideas.  Or I can fill those 27 days with intentional living.  I can savor each moment of this precious little newborn because who knows if this will be my last.  There are no guarantees in life.  Daxson and I plan to have more babies, but what if God has a different plan?  What if this is my last chance to just watch.  To just wait.  To just be.  I can spend the next 27 days trying to keep Joseph and William entertained while I read a book or spend time mindlessly clicking away on my laptop or I could spend the next 27 days watching them…watching as Joseph and William immerse themselves in imaginary play, finding ways to make it through a restless summer; watching as childhood unfolds before them.  I choose to spend my next 27 days watching.  Watching.  Waiting.  There is no rush here.  Just precious time.  I plan to watch as that time unfolds.

Intentional living…seems to be a hot topic this summer.  Elizabeth is contemplating it In the Heart of her Home; Sarah is thinking about it Amongst Lovely Things.  Now I’m thinking about it.  Maybe you will spend a little time contemplating how to live each day with intention.  There are no guarantees.  No promise of another summer.  No promise of time.  So go and make your list.  Your list for this summer of intentional living.  It might look more like Sarah’s or Elizabeth’s…theirs are filled with beautiful, creative endeavors.  Or maybe, just maybe your list will look more like mine.  My list is quite short.  Just one thing on it.  Watch.