Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
© Geraktv | Dreamstime.com
A television ad for a Web site, asking this question, caught my attention while I ran on the treadmill at the Y. The sound was muted, so I couldn’t hear the site’s claims, but I got the gist of the service it provides.
It starts with the assumption that feeds the inner ego: someone is looking for me. Exes, friends, employers … the possibilities only start there. Just asking the question, “Who’s searching for you?” is a hook. Who doesn’t want to think that someone, somewhere is looking for them? It’s a search for significance, maybe. Validation that we matter to someone. I was even a little curious. But I didn’t take the bait. Maybe no one is looking for me, and that would be a little depressing.
That question isn’t always a thrilling one. I think about this sometimes when I get a missed phone call, with no voicemail, from a number I don’t recognize. Especially if it’s repeated over several days. My husband and I have had creditors call about bad debt, and even though I’m pretty sure we’re paid up with a clean slate, I still worry sometimes that someone is trying to track us down because of a debt we weren’t aware of. We don’t have a lot of money as it is; I’m not fond of unexpected financial obligations.
Who’s searching for you? The question has an awesome answer that the Web site doesn’t provide.
© Marilyn Barbone | Dreamstime.com
“Then Jesus told them this parable: ‘Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.” I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.'” (Luke 15:3-7)
Someone is searching for you. If you are lost, God is looking for you. Actually, He already knows where you are, but He’s pursuing you to set you right. A sheep on its own cannot fend for itself and survive.
At church this week, a couple of women were talking about a bumper sticker they had seen. It said: “Church is full of people who can’t think for themselves.” That certainly seems true sometimes, but I have to disagree. Sheep need a shepherd to show them where to eat, where to rest and to protect them from danger. Sheep, if left to “think for themselves,” wouldn’t know danger until it was too late.
I don’t always like being compared to a sheep, but God knew what He was doing when He called Himself a Shepherd. I need God to provide for me, to tell me when to rest, to protect me from danger and harm. He lovingly cares for me, and I choose to follow Him because I’ve seen the damage I can do when left to my own way.
God was searching for me long before I said, “Yes” to life with Him. I don’t regret it at all.
If you’re wondering if anyone cares, if anyone is searching for you, the answer to both questions is YES.
“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” (Luke 19:10)
And you don’t need a Web site to help you find Him.
“The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.” (Psalm 145:18)
He’s as close as a prayer.
“I have strayed like a lost sheep. Seek your servant, for I have not forgotten your commands.” (Psalm 119:176)
I cry over the stupidest things sometimes.
Take today, for example, when I left the Y in tears. Why I left the Y in tears requires a tiny bit of backstory.
For the last two weeks, we’ve been focusing on potty training Isabelle. We committed to putting her in underwear as often as possible and dealing with the consequences. She’s been sporadic. Some days, no accidents. Other days, too many to count. Almost always, though, she has an accident when she’s at the Y Kids Korner. She plays with other kids and forgets and Mom and Dad aren’t around to ask her every hour if she needs to sit on the potty.
I thought today was going to be a good day. She pottied before we left the house. She pottied when we got to Kids Korner. I was gone an hour, and when I got back, she had just peed in her pants, and the staff was cleaning it up. The director, very kindly and sweetly, asked if Isabelle could wear training pants when she comes. Totally valid request, right? They’ve got dozens of kids to deal with. I wouldn’t want to be cleaning up pee every day, either. I agreed, but as I changed Isabelle’s clothes, I started to cry.
I felt like I should have known better. That I’d failed at potty training her. That I was stupid because I brought my daughter to group babysitting with no protection from pee accidents. And I was annoyed because this 5-year-old kid, very curious, asked me a ton of questions: What are you getting for her? Does she have to wear Pull-Ups? Why? My brother is 3, too. All while I’m trying to gather Isabelle’s fresh clothes and search for the socks that have fallen to the bottom of the diaper bag. I wanted to say, “Shut up and leave me alone, kid,” but I didn’t think that would help the situation.
I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. And I was so embarrassed that I knew Corban had a dirty diaper and I didn’t change it on the changing table. I waited till we were outside, in the car, to take care of it.
Driving home, I thought about my reaction. 
I already feel like I don’t measure up to the other Y moms. I don’t have cute little name-embroidered backpacks for the kids, or matching workout wear for myself. I envy their SUVs (for a moment) when I get into my just plain van. I overheard one mom talking about how she can’t do anything for herself, like brush her teeth in the morning, until the kids go to school. And I thought, “You get to brush your teeth in the morning?”
This is my first go-round with group daycare of any kind, excepting the nursery at church which doesn’t count in my mind, and I fear these inadequacy feelings will only get worse with preschool and school. I have this idea in my head that the other moms will be judging me and my kids every time they see us. Is that a normal feeling or am I just super paranoid?
I know I need a dose of my own medicine. Thanks for identifying with me.
Being a mom is hard. I don’t know why I make it harder by creating this “perfect mom” measuring stick to compare myself with.
On the way home, while I’m sinking into self-pity, trying to hold back the tears so I don’t make Isabelle think I’m upset with her for having an accident, I hear this sweet voice from the back say, “Guess what, Mom?”
“What?” I reply.
“I love you,” she says.
Sometimes I don’t cry when the moment might call for it. But she encouraged me with those three little words.
Later, Isabelle told me tales of another girl in the Kids Korner who was talking about puking in the bathroom.
Perhaps we’re in good company after all.