The Nightly Chase of Love

These are my girls. The precious ones entrusted to me by God. to train. to guide. and most importantly, to love.

But how often do I focus on the training more than the loving? the leading and blazing the path ahead of them more often than just holding their hand to leisurely walk through the fallen leaves with them?

Have I forgotten to connect with them before I direct them? to establish a relationship before I establish rules?

Honestly, with my being at stay-at-home homeschooling mom, it can become so easy to focus on the discipline part of my parenting. Since it is their fighting, disobeying, and the like that is what demands attention. Rather loudly, at times.

You know the saying "it's the squeaky door that gets the oil"? It should go on to say "...and the dirty laundry, and the empty frig, and the sticky floor..." For I find it's the loud stuff that tends to get done.

But it is love that endures, right?! Yes, discipline and training have their very important place. But it's a balance, for they must be framed and covered in love. Rules obeyed because there is a foundation of love, not of fear. Because there is a relationship to enjoy, not retribution to avoid.

In the not-t00-distant past (read this to say "last week"), it's frustrated me that I, seemingly, was the "main disciplinarian" of the house. Something that occurred out of necessity because I am the one that is with them all day long. While Jet does discipline, he has but two precious hours with them before they go to bed at night. And he, of course, wants to use those hours wisely. So when Jet comes home, he plays.

Traditionally, the girls run and hide as soon as they hear Daddy's truck pull up. He walks in the door (after kissing me) and picks up Raegan and goes off in search of hidden treasures. Which happen to be half-hidden under the dining room table.

Then The Chase ensues.

Jet, with Raegan in tow, chases the older girls around the circular first floor of the house, screaming and laughing. The girls love it. They love playing and laughing and being silly...

And while this is happening, I get dinner ready. Finish cooking it. Setting the table. Dishing it up. I have things to do.

Or do I?

Would everything fall to pieces if I were to stop getting "things" done and jump in on the action too? Would we starve if dinner was set on the stove and served 30 minutes later? Would we fall apart if some clothes remained in the laundry basket for a couple more hours (or days)?

And if I were to do this...to procrastinate in the name of love and choose to put aside the stuff to do in exchange for being silly and playing...what would be the silent message spoken to my girls?

I know what it would be! That they are more important. That they are worth my time. That they are not just "the most important thing to me" in words, but in Deeds. In the way that they currently understand: time spent laughing and playing. precious, never-to-be-gotten back time spent building an authentic relationship with a 8 month old, 3 year old, and 5 year old.

Years from now, how will they remember they're time with me? that I taught them over and over and over again about sharing and picking up after themselves? Or that I was on the floor, first, helping to make the mess? reveling in the moment. laughing in the joy of play.

That I spent large amounts of time instructing them that what they just did was wrong and shouldn't happen again? Or that I spent time getting to know them? embracing their thoughts. their opinions. their inner personality. and sharing mine.

Lord, my mothering needs help. My focus needs to be shifted a bit. My heart has been like that of Martha in the Bible. Serving...getting things done that I think will bless...

But I want a heart like Mary's. One that desires just to sit on the floor, completely engrossed in getting to know these hidden treasures that you have entrusted to me. Treasures that aren't all that hidden underneath the dining room table.