Dwell

Contemplation has been my main mood lately. Nothing new. Just for longer stretches of time than usual. I've been studying how my words and actions and very ways of being affect my children, for good or for ill. How many times I have failed to concern myself with the end result and instead cared only with gaining the desired response with immediacy. I have come to see the error of this way of thinking and behaving. Especially as a mother.

Rome wasn't built in a day and it is impossible to build the kind of character and inner fortitude in the heart of a child that will last them through life's storms without a focus on the inward response rather than just the outward action. How grateful I am that God doesn't judge me immediately on my wrong or seemingly wrong actions but instead examines my heart and my motives.

As a mom (and a very nouveau one at that!) I have come to see that I cannot accurately and fairly make a judgement on the intents of my children's hearts, the motives behind their actions unless I first come to really know my children. Sure, I can know them in many physical senses; I know their favorite snack or book or song; I know they both need their favorite blankets to fall asleep or that they particularly enjoy slurping out of water bottles with swirly straws. I know when they need a nap or a bath or time playing outside. But in order to have a connection with them that goes beyond these details I must dwell with them.

At first thought dwell means simply that, to live with them. Well I have certainly done that. I've attended to all the ins and outs of their daily care, meals, tooth brushing, dressing and diapering. But there's so much more to dwelling with them.
If you read further dwell also means to delay; to linger,to remain; to continue.

It is amazing the difference in my perspective and theirs when I reprioritize and just be with them. I stretch out on their bedroom floors and let them crawl all over me. Admittedly, not always easy to have hands twisting in your hair, tiny fingers poking into the corners of your eyes, counting your teeth, whispering in your ear and wiggly bodies bouncing on your belly. But once I let go of my inhibitions and let my hair down and be real, nothing compares to that. And that's the picture of Jesus I like to carry around with me. This One who was God left his high place in the heavens and came to our ordinary world and let us get to know him. (John 1:14) He knew that in order to win men's hearts he must first open his. Vulnerability. Authenticity at its best. An example I'd like to follow.

So next time you find yourself worrying about how spotless your floors aren't or how well your clothes don't fit or whether or not your hair makes the A list, toss those thoughts over your shoulders and pull up a patch of floor in your kid's rooms and ultimately in their hearts. Dwell with them.