Good Enough

When my eldest was in first grade, she was using the word shan’t in everyday conversation; she’d learned it from books. She is very well-read, and a lot of it is heavy.  Think Dostoevsky.

She took voice lessons, and actually practiced a lot. Willingly. She is accomplished, sings beautifully, and takes great joy in it. 

She fiercely persevered through migraines in high school and college, when 99 out of 100 would have caved. I cannot express how much I admire her courage, and her love for learning. She’s even a darn good orator and amateur theologian.

When my youngest was in kindergarten, her teacher told me that when she asked the class a question, she always called on my daughter last, because she knew she’d have an outside-the-box answer. 

Also in kindergarten, they were having a class party and there was panic among the moms because they were short one party napkin.  My daughter said, “I know what to do!” and promptly tore her napkin in half and gave half to the little boy.

In the sixth grade, she received the science award at school.  When the teacher made his remarks, he said, “I have never seen such natural leadership in someone so young.” She had the ability to bring everyone into an activity, at their best, without them ever knowing it.

I have no idea where my daughters got these characteristics; certainly not from me. 

I’m a reader, but twice I’ve tried Dostoevsky and failed.  Not just bored, but didn’t even track with it. When I took piano lessons, I fought having to practice and I haven’t played in years. I loved it, but am lazy. I get the piano tuned every year, but never actually play it.

I’ve taken the easy way out; I didn’t apply myself in college, and certainly didn’t take risks getting a job when I got out. I should have gone to grad school and I didn't, and really regret it. I’ve been too average and played it safe. Plus I’ve either mercilessly driven myself or been a bit slovenly. Neither is good.

Where my youngest is a free and creative thinker, I’ve lived by rules and analytical thinking.  While she was glad to sacrifice half her napkin, I wouldn’t have dared and wouldn’t have wanted to; I would have been afraid I’d spill and need the whole thing. Or I'd have just been selfish. And while I’ve had leadership skills and positions, I’m not sure it was in the manner that built every one up and showed them at their best.

While my eldest has persevered and persevered and persevered through migraines, she has continued to sing and find joy and make it though all those college classes when she felt like shit.  

I’m not sure how all this works. I just know that I learn from my girls.  When I stop and watch, I am amazed.  At times they both struggle, and there have been some really rough patches they’ve pushed through while barely hanging on. There have been many tears and stomping and hot words and silence. Sometimes they express it, and sometimes they stuff it.  They get the stuffing it from me. 

I don’t know how I as a mom can do such an average job and be such an average example, and yet turn out great kids. I can only explain this great mercy as a gift from a merciful God. I have prayed over them and I have prayed with them.  I have begged God on their behalf.  I have loved them as best I can.  I’ve also shouted curse words and kicked things across the room; I’ve criticized when I should have comforted, and advised when I should have just cried and sat with them.

My therapist recently referenced a book called, “Good Enough Parenting.”  I haven’t read the book and don’t know much except the title, but it speaks to me.  The fact is, we all do the best we can and it’s certainly not perfect, but it’s good enough.  Good enough that our kids have been fed and clothed, but also loved and encouraged and cheered-on and listened to.  Does your kid have a voice and speak it? Congrats! You succeeded.  Does your kid behave honestly and with integrity?  Bam! That’s fabulous.  Is he or she kind?  That one’s huge. Are they literate, and contributing members of society?  You’ve done well. 

And what if you kid is struggling? What if they are dong things you would never have wanted for them? Not working or in school. In a bad relationship. In trouble with the law. What if they are estranged and not speaking to you? What if they've betrayed you, stolen from you, rejected your love? Maybe you've done everything right and it all looks like disaster, and maybe you've made big mistakes and don't know if there is a way to rectify it. I have no answers for these - other than this: there is always still hope, and there is a God of hope. Of course you need boundaries and all the best psychological and behavioral practices. Of course we all screw up. But there is always a God who loves you and loves them. Pray and ask God to intervene. Seek Jesus, because he knows your heart and pain, and theirs as well.

On the one hand, it's so cliche to say pray and turn to Jesus. I'm not the person at the game with the rainbow wig and placard. I am the person where when I'm lying in bed at noon with the sheet pulled over my head, He understands. He doesn't blame. He aches with me and loves me. If I down on the floor and can't pick myself up, if I'm shaking in despair and fear and worry, if I can't even begin to pray, He still loves me and comforts me, and still understands and still carries me. I swear He will do that for you too. You may not see it in the moment, you may not fully realize what He has done for you for years to come, but He is there and you are not alone. You are Beloved, as is your child.

We live in a time when kids blame their parents for being imperfect, as if perfection is even a possibility.  But as adults, we can all look at what we grew up with, and what our kids are growing up with, and overwhelmingly and with a whole lot of certainly we can say that they have not lived miserable lives. We don't live in times of diphtheria and starvation, or child labor (at least not in North America and Europe). We are living in the best time in human history. We’ve done the best we could, and it was good enough.

If you are struggling with raising your kids, or having raised your kids, or don’t have kids but have others you love and care for: Give yourself mercy, just as you have given them mercy, and God gives us all mercy.  I’d like to say it always gets better as we all grow up, but I know that’s necessarily true, not even a little.  There is a lot of suffering in this world, and so often that suffering is alone and unseen.

For the last twenty-five plus years I’ve been saying, “You never know what goes on behind closed doors,” and I’m not referring to abuse or violence; I’m referring to the struggles and suffering, pain and yes, joy, that others never see.  The huge defeats and tiny victories, and vice versa. The things that make up life, that we walk through every single day.

Sometime in my girls' late elementary school I finally got smart and started praying over them as I dropped them off at school. I prayed over them as they headed back to college or I dropped them off at their dorms. And now I pray it over them at the airport or whenever I know I won't be seeing them for a while, or even a few days -- and especially when they are facing something hard. At one point I thought I'd try a different Biblical blessing, but got a loud "NO" from both of them -- we stick with what we know.

Whatever you are going through, be it gladness or pain, questioning or hope, I pray this over you as well:

The Lord bless you and keep you;

The Lord make his face to shine upon you

and be gracious unto you;

The Lord lift up his countenance upon you

and give you peace.

                                    Numbers 6:24-26

Pictures are from our trip to West Virginia, during Covid. Notice there are no people in them.