pass the bacon.

The bacon sizzled as the family slowly scampered around getting ready for church. It was a drizzly and grey Sunday morning, where we all slept in since we’d stayed up until midnight to light sparklers and watch the New Year roll in together. Breakfast was finally finished cooking, but apparently nobody around here likes bacon anymore (go figure) and they started complaining about how hungry they were and how there’s nothing to eat. A batch of pancakes got everyone back on track, and all was well in the world again. I had an old Spotify playlist playing on our kitchen speaker with a collection of different worship songs and hymns that we had built up and added to over the years. I was mid-conversation with my middle boy, and he stopped and smiled and pointed at the speaker. “Hey, that was one of our hymns from school - I remember this one.” He then immediately dropped back into whatever he was doing, and the morning moved on. But that moment stuck with me, and I think it’s those simple little things like that I am beginning to store up and treasure. That song we learned was from a LONG time ago, and I was glowing inside knowing that it still caught his ear.

For a couple of years now, we’ve follow along with a family’s blog called Happy Hymnody, and they share a printable and little video with a “hymn of the month”. We’ll read a bit about who wrote the song, and what was going on in their life or the world around them that lead them to pen the work. We talk about confusing words in the lyrics, what we think the song means, and any scripture that might be woven into it. They don’t have to sing if they don’t want to, I just ask that they have the words in front of them. Their only work is just to listen. While they rarely sing along with me, I usually notice throughout the day that when they’re lost in some other task, they will softly start humming the tune or singing the chorus… and that’s what I’m going for. I don’t care if they are off key, or don’t remember the author who wrote the song or the year it was created. I don’t mind if they remember one line or one stanza or the whole shebang. As a homeschool mom, I’m in the business of planting seeds. Some will stick and grow deep roots, and some won’t take. Some will hang out for awhile until they are ready to blossom and grow. Some shoot up quickly, and others need a lot more time and grow rather slowly. None of that is up to me, I’m literally just the thrower of the seeds. I try to choose those which I think will add beauty and serve great purpose in their lives, and just wait to see what sprouts. If it’s truly important, it will find them just when they need it.

However, my kids pick up the most just from watching others live their everyday lives... especially me. They are also great at sniffing out insincerity and read well between the lines, and I must be careful to make sure what’s coming out in my words is aligning with the way I’m living out these days with them. For example, if I don’t want my kids to be on screens all day, then I’ve got to get off my phone, show them my face, and be present. If I want them to spend more time outside, then I need to go outside too (because let’s be honest you know they’re following me around like some creepers). If I want them to be kind and generous, then I need to let them watch me be kind and generous. If I want them to be brave and give themselves permission to fail and try again, then I have to try hard things and persevere. If I want them to know and love God, I’ve gotta tell them what I know about Him and spread the table with all the truth, beauty, and goodness I can and just let them feast. But they will pick and choose, there are no guarantees. There will be days where they complain that there’s nothing to eat, and I’ll just quietly stare at the spread and wait for them to see it too. 

I’m not making them into who they will be, they are already exactly who God created them to be. They are a whole person, made in the image of God, with all of their complexities and personalities already in tact, just like me. They will be drawn to certain things more than others, and I’ve got to leave room for their exploration amongst my mixed bag of intentional and accidental promptings. I must lead them by example, as Christ leads me. But I will lead imperfectly, and that will be enough. That’s all the Lord asked of me. I’m not trying to clone myself, rather I’m offering my love, my presence, my time, and inviting them into it. They get to pick whether they draw near or not though. They get to pick what attitude they approach with. I have influence over them, but not control. Which, if I’m being honest, is pretty frightening. But if Christ is who he says he is, then I can trust him with anything - even the things most precious to me. Even them.

I may not feel like I’m doing enough, or that I’m not doing it right. But I can rest in the knowledge that I don’t have to be all the things for my children, for myself, or for anyone else. I was never supposed to be. I will have limits and most assuredly fail them sometimes. And that will be enough.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” - 2 Corinthians 12:9

I may not know all the right things to say when they bring me their hard questions, but I’m thrilled that I get to be the one they ask, and that we can chase down an answer together… even if it takes a lifetime.