“Does not the Lord go before you?”(Judges 4:14)
He grabs the keys to the car and tells me he’s ready to go. I have a few things left to do but by the time I get in the seat, he’s buckled, the mirrors are adjusted, the music and his phone are both turned off. He takes a final check of the mirrors and makes sure I am buckled before he places his hands on the wheel and puts the car in drive. The muscles in my body immediately begin to tense. My feet press into the floorboard and my hand grips the handle. I take a deep breath and try with all of my might to not let it show. Cover him, God.
He readies his gear and loads it into the car. He’s got everything he needs and is rushing to get on with it. We get in the car and crank his playlist up. We don’t say anything, just drive. In my head, I go through the things I want to say to him before he starts. But we get there and he bounces out of the car, grabs his stuff and hauls it to the field. He’s geared up and already running before I even have a chance to caution him or remind him of any advice or encouragement. I take a deep breath and whisper a prayer. Protect him, Father.
She’s taking more time and more care now; with her hair, her room, her things. She’s expressing herself in her art and her journaling. She feels the weight of everything; the joy, the heaviness, the heartache, the peace. She keeps asking me if I’m ready to have the talk. She’s been asking for weeks now. I take a deep breath and start planning how. Guide me, Abba.
When they were toddling around the house or the park, I don’t think I ever thought of these days. Their hands were always in mine or their sweet little bodies were wrapped around my hip. They were close and I was able to protect them from the difficulties of the world. My biggest fears were that they might be bruised because of a fall or a trip. How many times did I tell them “Don’t touch!” when they approached the hot pot or stove? How many times did I ask them to look both ways? The fears I had in my earlier days of mothering seem so much more conquerable than the fears I have today. These days are filled with fears of outside circumstances, fears of things which are outside of my control. Other drivers who might be on their phones, other baseball players who are throwing upper 60s, and the fear of letting my little ones grow up and be in the world.
Am I guiding them down the right path? Am I over-correcting them; hovering too much or too close? Am I crushing them and binding them and not allowing them to be the people who God has created them to be? Am I leading well? Am I failing? Have I done it well? Am I enough? These are the fear-laden questions that keep me up at night and have me on my knees in the mornings. I’ll go through seasons of trusting God completely and without hesitation when, suddenly, a rushing wave of fear comes and I forget that Grace, too, comes in the waves. But after the panic fades, when I’ve counted to ten five times and I can see a little more clearly, I realize He’s here and has been all along.
When fear tries to shake me, Grace shows up and reminds me that I am the mother God chose for them. When fear tries to cause me to stumble, Grace crashes over me and I am reminded that yes, I will fail, but He’s the One carrying us. When I feel overwhelmed, Grace gently reminds me to take a deep breath. And when the fear starts to take my breath away, He stills me enough to breathe. Like Deborah reminds Barak, Grace shouts [and whispers], “Does not the Lord go before you?” (Judges 4:14). It’s a gentle, but deeply needed, reminder that I must choose to lean on every single day. Because if fear [the enemy] had its way, fear would cripple me from mothering them and leading them and teaching them the important lessons that God needs them to know so that they can go out into the world and shape His kingdom. If fear had its way, the Kingdom of God would be terribly lacking, terribly ugly and terribly difficult. But God. But Grace. He knew we’d be here, time and time again, at the feet of fear. And in His knowing, He, firmly and lovingly, sends us reminders that, “Yes, I AM goes before you.”
Father, show me and remind me that You go before me; that You go before my children. Remind me, Lord, that You are and were their Father before I am and was ever their mother. Instead of fear, remind me of courage. Instead of fear, give me a calm spirit. Replace fear with trust. Exchange fear for confidence. Remind me, Lord, that Your peace transcends all understanding and guards our hearts and our minds (Philippians 4:7). Your mighty and powerful hand goes before any, and every, step we take. Your wisdom goes beyond the limits of mine, of theirs. Your power goes beyond the limits of mine and theirs. Your heart goes beyond the limits of mine and theirs. Father, remind me…No matter how hard we try, we can’t out-smart you, out-love you, out-think you. You have chosen to go before us, before every breath we breathe, every thought we think, every move we make. Father, let me sink into that, let my heart rest in it. You’ve loved them enough to go before them, again…and again. And You won’t ever stop.
Friends, if you’re in the woes of parenting [small babies with sleepless nights or teenagers who keep you up until after curfew and anywhere in between], my prayer for you is that you hold on to His grace. Press in. Press on. When fear creeps in, I pray that Grace reminds you of that little but mighty question, ‘Does not the Lord go before you?” Stand firm, friends. Fear has no ground, no space, in a house in which the foundation is built on solid rock.
This piece was first published on www.glintsofgrace.com March 13, 2017