When I was a child, I truly thought my mom had all the answers. I mean, she appeared to know everything about everything. I can remember dreaming of being a mother and then I would have all the answers. It wasn’t until I was older, and a mother myself, that I realized she didn’t know everything…and she was okay with that.
For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be a mother. I knew the job wasn’t easy, but that didn’t matter. I wanted children. And lots of them. I wanted all the answers – or at least the perception of having all the answers. I knew the day would come when my children would ask me questions and I wanted to know and have the right things to say.
That lasted until they were five.
And now, almost 12 years later, and I finally understand my mother didn’t know all the answers.
She knew the One who did.
I have five beautiful and unique children. While they might share some interests, they have different personalities, which means different likes and dislikes. There is no possible way for me to know everything about their interests. Some of them I have learned more about, but others I am simply lost.
Fascination with worms. Lost.
Love of math. Totally Lost.
I love my children, but I simply do not love all their interests. However, I am willing to learn more about them and even allow my children to teach me what fuels their passion. It is an adventure to learn from my children and see their eyes light up when they share with me what they love.
And those times when my kids come to me for answers I don’t have, I go to the One who does.
When they ask the hard questions, “Why did your friend and her baby have to die?” I kneel in prayer and we cry together.
One day my children will come to me with a broken heart. And together, we will go bow before the throne of the only One who can mend their brokenness.
In fact, after 12 years of being a mother, I am happy I don’t have all the answers.
But I delight in the One who does.